Crossfire
by sookeh
Summary: 6th year Andromeda Black anonymously calls for the wizarding world to stand up to the fear and hatred the Death Eaters are spreading but unbeknownst to her, the Dark Lord has sent his newest marked follower to earn her trust and silence her for good.
1. Little Lion Man

**Crossfire: Chapter One**

_Thomas Nott_

The first thing I recall about the clearing, the one thing that sticks out in my mind more than anything was how dark the sky was. It was almost as if the pinpricks of light that normally illuminated the sky or the moonbeams that shown down from the heavens couldn't reach me. Also there was that feeling in the air of that circle of ghastly figures. It was like heavy air before a lightening storm, electricity that vibrated in the very night, pressing in and choking me.

The second, oddly enough, were His feet as they stepped over the fallen leaves and dying grass. Where as we encircled Him clad in our flowing hand made cloaks, our faceless masks, assorted wands tucked within the folds of our expensive robes beneath, He stood in much simpler apparel. Not only had He decided against shoes this night, but He dressed himself in what appeared to be a simple, shapeless, black fabric. I recalled the mystics of the old religions that were one with nature, both giving and taking from the source they respected so devoutly. It seemed hardly fitting that a man such as He would bring up such a thought but perhaps He did draw his power from such a source. Perhaps He just harnessed it and wielded it for much more dark and sinister purposes.

It was only the second time that skull and snake on my arm had burned and it sent the same shiver down my spine it had the first time. Again, my father had been there to instruct me. I wondered if his heart still quickened when he was beckoned. I would think that he would be used to it but perhaps that quick mix of fear and excitement was something the Dark Lord had intended when he devised such a beckoning system. My father was one of Voldemort's earliest followers, a fact he was certainly proud of. So it was no surprise that he would gladly offer his only son into the services of his Lord even before that child had graduated from Hogwarts.

It wasn't that I didn't agree with the ideals behind the Death Eaters. I was raised in the upper tier of pureblood society, which as a whole was overwhelmingly sympathetic to the mission of the Dark Lord. I would be lying if I told you that I myself had a soft spot for muggle born witches and wizards and of course I held myself to a higher standard. Unlike my masked brethren, I wasn't so concerned about it at the time to have actively sought out membership within His circle. I would have rather carried out my pureblooded male duties in an alternate way, perhaps simply marrying a respectable pureblooded young woman would have been enough. However I was smart enough not to put up much of a fuss when my father approached with the proposition. Would I have changed my decision to take the mark knowing how it turned out? I'll have to mull that over...

Well at least this had all come to be during summer holiday, my being marked and all. I had some guidance readily available to me and I wasn't alone. I had shared a ceremony with a small number of other young men who would be putting about the dungeons with me upon return to the castle. Lucius Malfoy and Walden MacNair being two of them. Come to think about it our little seventh year Slytherin boys' dormitory would contain some rather intimidating young gentlemen that year. But right now, it was these two boys that stood beside on that chilly August evening. We had a tendency to huddle together at such events. I would never admit it was because we may have realized we were a bit over our heads and needed to draw some strength from our solidarity.

The Dark Lord had been huddled within the circle, surrounded by His closest and most loyal servants who had the good fortune of being counted as such. His inner circle at the time. I knew my father stood with Him, I picked his profile out almost instantly. Beside Him stood a much slighter figure I imagined was Bellatrix Black, no doubt with her fiance Rodolphus. Though she was only three years my senior she had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord and rose to be one of Voldemort's most trusted servants and for good reason. She had the reputation for possessing a ferocity that overshadowed the oldest most hardened Death Eaters. This coupled with her almost compulsive loyalty to the Dark Lord made her His "pet," if He could have such things.

A hush fell over those assembled as our master turned to finally address our presence that night. Beside me I saw Lucius straighten his back as His eyes scanned over the three of us, lingering for a moment before he began to draw closer. In His hand He clutched a roll of parchment. Instantly I felt a chill down my spine. My father had mentioned that parchment was the reason we had been called and from the tense whispers of those gathered I had come to understand that whatever had been written upon it had upset the Dark Lord immensely.

"I have gathered you here this evening to share an interesting piece of literature that has recently been brought to my attention. Some of you may have seen it, as I have been told it has made it's way into a number of establishments in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley today. I must say I find myself...disappointed that it was allowed to be seen by so many."

I didn't have much time to contemplate that fact however, as His great sweeping figure broke through the assembled and came to stand before me, staring down His nose as I noticeably tried not to cower. It was His eyes. His eyes, whose gaze seared through flesh and facade to come to rest on the very soul it was set upon. Those frightening oculars, which watched with an unwavering gaze, every movement and I'm sure every thought within me. It seemed as if it was hours before he finally lifted His hand clutching the parchment, peering down at me through the silence and thickness that had come to set around all gathered there that night. I remember feeling the sweat roll off my face in beads.

"Now child," he breathed as he beckoned me closer to him with the crook of a claw like finger, "Read it."

I reached forward, willing my hand to stop the tremors that so visibly shook my whole arm as I reached forward and took the parchment he offered, turning so that I could address the circle. I cleared my throat, and began.

"I clearly remember when I was a child my father used to tell me how special I was, that I was not like many other children. I'm sure that many parents tell their children the same thing, but there was always a very specific thing that made me special and that was my last name and my blood. Now I wish that it was for some other reason, perhaps because I smiled a lot, or I was a beautiful baby, or I displayed skill or intelligence at a young age, but even then it would have been attributed to my name and not to my own person.I grew up with magic, it was a part of me as well as it was all around me, and when I got my letter to attend Hogwarts it was already expected. I went with family and friends, people I had grown up with. My teachers knew of my family, and many thought that I was special as well. I didn't have to try particularly hard to fit in or to master simple spells. And that got me thinking...

What would happen if I found myself in the muggle world with no access to magic? I would have to try and adjust to the society and find a place within it all on my own. I would have to work harder than muggles who had woken up every day of their lives in the same place with the same people and had developed their skills from a young age. Even the simplest things would be a struggle at first; how to get from place to place, how to dress, what to do for recreation etc. No doubt muggles would see me as different and I would have to try twice as hard every day to do the things that were second nature to them, that they didn't even have to think about. I would like to think that I could persevere, but who knows.

The muggleborn students at Hogwarts must feel the same way, except there is a very large part of the equation that adds to their hardships and that would be the prejudice of pureblooded witches and wizards. The fact that in a few days I will be sitting side by side with a muggleborn in my classroom and have him or her perform just as well on a task as I can astounds me. For lack of words I respect them, because I will never know what they had to go through to do that. Where as I simply opened my book, practiced a bit, and applied knowledge I have had my whole life to the situation at hand, they may have had to tirelessly work to achieve the same result. And while they were working in the back of their mind they must know that they are believed to be inferior, that they are unworthy to sit in class with us, shouldn't be learning these things.

What astounds me further is that many of them wish to do things to better our world. They want to be healers, perhaps. They want to help us who do nothing but look down our noses. Why? Because of our names and our blood? Blood that we tell ourselves is pure, even though we know that somewhere along those generations there was someone who had "dirty blood" and that their blood still flows in our veins. We would rather blast it off of our family trees and put it out of of minds and go on pretending that we are better.

Now there are people close to me, closer than I would care to think of in fact, that are willing to kill and to die for the illusion of their blood. While they are committing violence against the muggleborns, they are simply trying to make a place in our world that they have fought for and earned, and perhaps even make it a little better. I myself will not stand for this. It is time that we stand up together and say enough to this fanaticism that threatens our society and our way of life. If you refused to be kept silent with fear, join me in condemning this madness."

I lowered the parchment, risking a glance around the circle as if I could draw reactions from the expressionless masks that surrounded me. Perhaps it was a good thing I couldn't. What I could see was the reaction of my Lord. The ghost of a smile flicked across His lips as I finished, His finger pressed to the side of his head as though he was deep in thought. Silence stretched on for an uncomfortable amount of time before he decided to speak.

"An interesting perspective is it not?," he began, so quiet I almost had to tilt my head closer to hear him, "What you have just heard is a call to your fellow pureblood witches and wizards to take a stand against you. You who put yourself in danger in order to protect your legacy and your way of life. You who fight against the onslaught of undeserving vermin who flood our society, stealing a power that they can not even hope to understand, who risk the exposure of our world and our abilities to filthy Muggles everywhere. This simply can not stand. We must find the author of this treachery and call them here answer for their misgivings."

He was yelling now, turning wildly on His heel to speak to everyone that was assembled, drawing roars of outrage from His children as he went. He was rousing our hatred, our fear, playing upon it and using it to bend us to His will. It was working. The Death Eaters were incensed. Surely they would expect this kind of talk from the Muggleborn families that were threatened, but not from one of their own.

"Now...can anyone tell me which of our begotten sons or daughters distributed this foulness?" He yanked the parchment out of my hand and tossed it in the air, instantly it erupted into an explosion of green flames before it's charred remains floated back down to rest upon the grass, much to the delight of my fellow Death Eaters.

"My Lord, if I may...," Bellatrix had stepped forward, her body sinking into an elaborate bow. Her head tilted upward as the Dark Lord approached her, staring through her ghastly mask as she waited to be addressed. When she received a nod of His head she straightened her back and continued, her voice full of contempt and barely contained rage as she spat out her words, "I have a suspicion that the author of that trash may very well be someone close to me. As unfortunate as it is, while I was listening I could only think that it sounds as if it came right from my younger sister's mouth. Andromeda has always entertained some...ill conceived notions about her blood and kept company with filth far below her own standard. I do believe she may have finally turned her back on her own. If that is the case, my Lord, then she must be dealt with swiftly, before her poisonous ideas spread further and do our cause harm."

I watched in stunned silence as Bellatrix offered her sister up as if she was some sacrifice to the will of her god, hoping it would please Him. Not that I had harbored any sweet thoughts of Andromeda in my own mind at this point. It had nothing to due with her appearance either, it was a well known fact that the three Black sisters were well known for their endowments. If it weren't for Bellatrix's mental instability in my opinion I would have certainly entertained some thoughts about her and if anything, the middle Black sister was a more approachable and less terrifying version of the elder. They shared the same tall, thin build, dark hair and patrician features however everything about Andromeda was softer. Wavy brown hair and wide brown doe -like eyes replaced Bella's jet black. She also lacked that air of entitlement that was not lost upon her sisters.

She was a year behind my seven at Hogwarts and I couldn't recall any conversation I had with the girl that extended beyond an exchange of pleasantries at a family party or a nod in the hallways of the dungeons. I was quite aware she did not share her sister's fervor for blood purity and openly spent time in the company of Mudbloods. She didn't seem to present much a threat to me, rather quiet and bookish, aloof from a majority of her Slytherin housemates who managed to keep their contempt for her actions and company to themselves for the most part if only due to her last name and a slight fear of her older sister.

I was shaken from my thoughts when I was recognized once more by the Dark Lord, His hand coming to fall upon my shoulder. I jumped, despite myself as he pulled me with Him into the center of the circle and instantly I dropped to my knee, submitting to His will, whatever it would be. Somewhere deep within me, something screamed in protest, as if it knew that this was the starting point of a long road for me, one that would be lined with my blood and the blood of others, that would alter the rather carefree life I had enjoyed up until this point.

"I want you to do something for me, Thomas," He purred, his eyes on my father as if assigning this responsibility to me was somehow payment for the years of service my father had offered him, "You'll be going back to that castle very soon, yes? I want you to put yourself in this girl's way. I want her to trust you and I want you to tell me what she is planning to do, if it is just her distributing these riotous little documents or if there is some group under the protection of that old fool ready to emerge into this world and cause me problems. I want to know who she talks to. And if it comes to be that you think she can be even the tiniest annoyance to what we are accomplishing here, I want you to bring her to me. Can you do this?"

I risked a glance up to look in the direction of where my father had stood and I could almost feel his gaze burning into me. Burning with pride and need. Proud that his son had been recognized by the man he pledged his life to and a need for me to fulfill this task in order to keep us in His good graces. I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes for a moment as the weight of what was asked of me fell on my shoulders. I could very well be responsible for the death of a young witch, one that had at least been my acquaintance since I was a child. Against my better judgement, I inclined my head respectfully.

"I would be honored to, My Lord."

And it was done.


	2. Trouble

**Crossfire: Chapter Two**

_Andromeda Black_

The sight of the Hogwarts Express rolling into the platform always made my spirits soar and the September first of my sixth year was no exception. For some reason ever since my first year, the closer it got to eleven o'clock the more I began to worry. Perhaps the train had gotten held up or they had to stop and replace a part along the tracks and my departure for the castle would be delayed. But every year the train never failed to show up on time, right down to the second. As I watched it come to a stop, steam pouring out to alert us of it's arrival I heaved a sigh of relief.

I had been leaning against my cart, piled high with my belongings for the school year, watching all of the families part way as students slowly began to trickle onto the train. My vision came to rest on Ted Tonks, a sixth year Hufflepuff boy who had more often than not been assigned to prefect rounds with me last year. For once his uniform didn't look as though he had been sleeping in it, something that I teased him about endlessly. The usually rumpled looking Ted looked quite prim indeed, most likely his mother's doing. Even his flyaway curly blond hair looked well kept. He caught my gaze and smiled, offering an enthusiastic wave before beckoning for me to come over. I smiled, catching sight of his mother who eyed me quite quizzically. I knew that look quite well. The "Who is this member of the opposite sex my child is interacting with," look. She and my mother would certainly get along if it weren't for Mum's distaste for anyone that couldn't trace their magical lineage back into the Middle Ages.

"Andromeda!"

I winced as the sound of my mother's harsh voice stopped me right in my tracks, I turned back to face her, appearing as innocent as possible and hoping she hadn't noticed the exchange. All I needed was for her to wrinkle her nose at Ted's rather middle class and quite obviously Muggle family.

"Hmmm?"

"Who is that boy?," she snapped, narrowing her dark eyes in disapproval as she followed my gaze. I was so happy I had turned away, I didn't even want to see the look on the normally carefree Ted's face when he found himself on the receiving end of that look, "I hope he isn't trying to get _your_ attention."

"Oh, that's Ted," I answered simply and before dear Mum had a chance to speak the number of hateful things that she was likely considering I raised an eyebrow in mock interest and added, "What were we talking about?"

Mother sighed, her whole body conveying her lack of patience and annoyance with me in that moment. My eyes flicked to my sister at my side who was fiddling with her new prefect badge on her black robes with a hint of a smile before smoothing back her long blond hair in preparation for boarding. She cast her shockingly blue eyes my way for a moment the way she did when I had done something she didn't approve of.

"Have you been listening to a word I've been saying? I was just telling your sister that I expect you two to come home with respectable young men for the Christmas party this year. Narcissa knows it's never to early to ingratiate yourself with a gentleman suitor. Bellatrix found herself a fine young man and it's about time that you two managed to do the same."

I knew she was only including Narcissa in this speech to keep me from growing irritated with her in public. Narcissa needed no prodding in order to bring home a "gentleman suitor." Despite the fact that she was a year behind me, I was fairly sure my younger sister could bring home any pureblooded male in the school she set her sights on. All she would have to do was crook her finger and they would follow. Not just because the Black Christmas party was widely considered one of the most high class events of the year, but because Narcissa was going to develop into as close as you could get to the perfect high class pureblood wife.

My snarky reply that I would have to write to Uncle Alphard and beg him to take me to France with him over Winter Holidays again was interrupted by a covert tug on the folds of my robes from Narcissa. At first I thought it was an effort to keep the peace, but that was before I caught sight of the flash of blond hair that was quickly approaching.

Since Narcissa's first year the mere thought of interaction with Lucius Malfoy made my sister practically fall over herself on the inside. On the outside she managed to keep her cool demeanor only by saying as little as she possibly could and avoiding any sort of movement, lest she embarrass herself. One Christmas she nearly took the whole tablecloth with her when he asked if she'd like to dance. I thought it was funny and endearing. She did not.

Still at the moment I failed to see the fatal attraction to Lucius that my sister shared with many a Slytherin witch. To me he looked like a more masculine version of Narcissa. Truly, they shared the same long, straight, blond hair, upturned nose, proud features, and flair for overstated dress. But that was just me.

"Ladies," Lucius greeted us with a polite inclination of his head to my Mother, "Always a pleasure to see you and your lovely daughters, Ms. Black."

I did my very best at forcing a smile. Lucius Malfoy, though quite the gentleman in public, did not hold his tongue very well when he spoke of a number of my good friends of the Muggleborn persuasion in the common room. I had to speak to him about his choice of terminology while in my presence a number of times. Narcissa managed a rather tight lipped smile and a quick nod when he turned to address her.

"I was wondering if I may be of service to you. I've already loaded my belongings on the train, perhaps I could help you with yours?"

My mother beamed, clasping her hands together in front of her as if she could barely contain her excitement at the image of excessively blonde grandchildren that was running through her mind. I had to bump Narcissa with one of my bags as I swung it on my shoulder to elicit a response from her after a noticeable silence on her behalf.

"Why thank you that would be lovely," she managed to reply in a breathy tone after the bag knocked her back into the conversation. She stepped back to allow him access to the cart. She and my mom exchanged a meaningful glance while he turned to address me with only a slight undertone of distaste, grabbing the handles of her cart and directing it toward the edge of the platform.

"If you'd like I can come back for your cart as well."

"Thank you, Lucius, but I think I can manage fine by myself," I replied curtly. He shrugged before waiting for Narcissa to say her goodbyes to Mother and make her way down the platform at his side.

I was surprised she wasn't skipping. Perhaps that wasn't fair, but I would be lying if I didn't feel a little pang of jealousy as I watched the two of them disappear into the throng of family and students waiting to board. I risked a glance at my mother, who didn't have to even say anything. Her expression said it all, but that didn't stop her.

"Andromeda, I really think that if you would just think before you speak some times you would have so many more young men interested in helping you with your cart."

"Like I said, I can manage my cart just fine, Mum" I snapped, giving it a jerk toward the train with every intention of storming off to the prefect compartment to have a few words with Narcissa about throwing me under the train, figuratively speaking. Unfortunately I failed to glance at the oncoming traffic while doing so. I felt the impact of my cart colliding with another and the next thing I knew I was flat on my backside, which stung almost as bad as my pride. Not a good start to the year at all, but at least my cart managed to remain upright where I did not, even if it had rolled a good ways away.

A hand fell in my vision, and I lifted my gaze to meet the eyes of my fellow Slythern, Thomas Nott. He stood over me, amusement clear on his handsome features as he offered his assistance. Thomas' muscular frame was the result of years spent on the Qudditch pitch as well as many a night working his way into many a young woman's underthings, or so I had heard. At least his attraction I could understand. If I had to pick one word for Thomas Nott it would be disarming. He had a carefree demeanor and a brilliant smile, a nice contrast of a mop of dark hair and light blue eyes.

A pureblood from a fairly respectable family, Thomas Nott managed to balance that gentlemanly quality he had been raised to possess with a pension for being a bit on the wild side. Aside from his almost steady stream of "girlfriends," Thomas had been caught once or twice with providing some rambunctious nights in the boys' dormitory care of bottles of firewhiskey taken from his father's private stock.

"Alright down there, Black?," he asked with a laugh. I felt the heat in my cheeks as I took his hand and he pulled me up with rather minimal effort on his part. I took a moment to check behind me and dust off the back of my robes with my hand before turning to eye him warily.

"Thank you, my fault Thomas. I'm afraid I wasn't looking where I was going."

He shrugged, turning away from me for a moment to collect my cart and wheel it back, leaning his forearms against the handlebars as he regarded me curiously.

"Crowded platform, it's getting close to departure time, everyone is in a rush and the prefect compartment is small. I don't want to get stuck next to some uppity fifth year so lets move it along, shall we? Why don't I just take control of the carts from here?"

And before I could protest he took hold of my cart with one hand and his own with the other and began pushing them both away, but not before flashing my mom a rather dazzling smile and polite wave. I didn't bother weighing in her reaction to that, but rather quickened my steps to catch up to his brisk pace.

"I'm sorry again for running into you, I didn't do any damage to your trunk, did I?" I ventured.

"This old thing has been through much worse than your inability to direct a cart, I'm sure you did more harm to your backside" he assured me with a laugh, grinning in my direction before teasingly adding, "Where were you off to so fast anyway? In a that much of a hurry to chaperone Narcissa and Lucius or was your mother worried that your lack of cart pushing offers put a damper on her efforts to marry you off?"

He risked a glance at the glare on my features before adding, "Sorry, I was close enough to overhear. Well, if anything you owe me now. I've reassured her that her middle child can still crash her way into a bloke's heart."

"Oh is that what I've done?," I questioned, stepping back to allow him space as we paused outside the prefect's compartment. I watched the muscles of his back move as he lifted the cart over the space between the platform and the train and maneuvered the wheels up the slight step with some latent degree of interest before adding carefully, "Just what is it that you think I owe you?"

Thomas turned back to face me and for a moment his expression was unreadable as if he was considering something against his better judgement, but I thought perhaps it was just my own paranoia because it was gone just as soon as I'd noticed it. He offered his hand across the space between us to help me aboard.

"Step up, Miss Black. I'd hate to see you left behind."

As the train gave it's departing whistle and roared back to life I took his hand and jumped.


	3. Lost Cause

**Crossfire: Chapter Thre**e

_Thomas Nott_

The ride to the castle in the prefect's compartment of the Hogwarts Express provides a completely different experience than that of your average student. Most compartments are buzzing with conversation, full of friends that haven't seen each other all summer and have months worth of gossip to swap. Students bounce from compartment to compartment, hugging, shrieking, swapping stories and indulging in delightful sugar highs care of the trolley that moves back and forth throughout the entire ride.

The prefects compartment only houses the twenty four prefects, head boy, and head girl and is for the most part sealed off from the bustle and clamor from the adjoining sections of the train. Now, halfway into the ride a majority of the prefects had been sufficiently reacquainted and were lulled into a light slumber by the methodical clicking of the train along the tracks and the sound of the rain that had begun to pour down outside, masking the rolling hills of the countryside.

I feigned a yawn and accompanied it with a deep stretch, taking the opportunity to survey the occupants in the section adjoining mine. Narcissa Black had turned her carryon bag into a makeshift pillow and was currently one of the prefects in a blissful sleep, her pale legs hanging off the edge of the seat, bouncing with the movement of the train. My gaze lingered there for a moment, soaking in what was visible past the line of her carefully placed skirt. It was a pity Lucius seemed to be setting his sights on her more and more. Though she was a bit too skinny and proper for my tastes she had potential, and I only had one year left in the castle to develop such potential. No matter.

Opposite slumbering Black sister number three, Ted Tonks had spent the majority of the ride so far attempting to teach Black sister number two, Andromeda, the rules of some muggle game involving cards and counting to twenty one. Apparently she had grasped the concept, they had been wrapped up in their little tournament for over an hour. She sat cross legged, facing him, brow furrowed in thought as she peered at the fan of cards in front of her. I couldn't help but notice her teeth work across her lower lip in concentration. Neither could Ted Tonks. Either A. Ted was very good at this game and had no need to focus his attention on strategy, B. Andromeda was still green at the game an therefore taking an exceedingly long amount of time, or C. the Mudblood was far more interested in the view opposite him than the game itself. I was leaning more toward scenario C. I made a mental note of this...could be a problem down the road and it couldn't hurt to be methodical from the start.

On the far side of the section Rabastan Lestrange had stretched himself out across a row of seats and engrossed himself in a book, hovering lazily over his line of vision while both his hands supported his head. A loud exclamation of victory from his future sister in law, Andromeda when she had finally beat the Mudblood elicited a rather pointed glare from her fellow sixth year prefect before he returned his attention to his reading with a scowl. Narcissa lifted her head to peek at the source of the outburst that disrupted the silence of the compartment before heaving a sigh laden with disapproval and returning to her sleep. Part of me had to give the Hufflepuff credit for seating himself in the middle of a collection of Slytherins, though he was apparently at ease enough beside my little project despite all the pointed glares and mutterings of her housemates.

I made another mental note that someone would have to show him that although the badger may be adept at killing snakes, he might not want to find himself in the midsts of a den of them.

Sharing my own little row of seats was my fellow seventh year prefect Isabella Greengrass who had opted for Narcissa's method of passing the time and fallen into her own deep sleep. She had not opted for the pillow-bag method. Her head had been resting on my thigh for the majority of the trip thus far. I didn't bother with allowing my eyes to wander over Isabella's exposed skin. Though there was much more visible I had already seen all there was to see of Isabella Greengrass. On several occasions. Which was probably why she thought it necessary to use me as her personal headrest. Normally I wouldn't mind but I had business to attend to and aristocracy behind me to seduce. From what I heard thusfar I had my work cut out for me there. I hadn't heard a single whisper in the locker room about what lingered under the skirt of Andromeda Black.

But I wasn't interested in games, stories, or skirt chasing at the moment, though I would have very much enjoyed a nap...and a peek. My attention had been focused on the only other occupant in my section of the compartment. Albert Runcorn; fellow Slytherin, Head Boy, and perhaps most importantly, avid supporter of the Death Eater agenda, had been keeping himself busy working on what I gathered to be the schedule of prefect rounds for the month of September. Which meant he was exactly the person I needed to speak with. A final sweep of my eyes across the compartment confirmed that my conversation with our Head Boy wouldn't warrant any turning of heads and left my pillow duties behind to take a seat beside him.

"Nott," he regarded me in his gravelly voice, not bothering to take his eyes off his work.

Albert was a thin, unimpressive looking young man with tawny hair and dull brown eyes set behind heavy spectacles. However, one would be mistaken to take him on appearances alone. Albert was a rising man, and not just to his current position in the castle. His father had worked in the Ministry for years and had been grooming his son for entry into public office almost since birth. Albert possessed a reserved cunning that rivaled even some of the Death Eater's in my own opinion. Nothing was ever lost on him and just like your average politician he could be bought and sold if you knew what to bargain for.

"Runcorn," I replied, just as noncommittal, "Is that the rounds schedule?"

Albert placed his quill on the table before him with a nod after giving his work one last look over, "It is. I think I've got it pretty much set. I've been going through everyone's availability since I boarded trying to get a working schedule going," he nodded at the pile of parchment beside him before adding, "Pain in the bloody arse this is."

"When have you got me?," I asked with a smirk, "And who have you got me with?"

"You've got Tuesday nights all month", he answered after fixing his glasses and drawing a finger through his notes to find my name, "I put you with Isabella every week. You'll probably have a fifth year following for the first couple weeks so they can get a handle on things. You're lucky so many prefects took Tuesday out of their availability or you'd be stuck with someone much less desirable on your part for the sake of inter-house unity."

I don't think Albert could have loaded any more distaste into the words "inter-house unity" if he tried but it wasn't the unity that caught my attention.

"Why so many requests for Tuesday night? I thought Divination club was the only thing meeting then?"

Albert shuffled through the parchment he had haphazardly tossed at his side.

"The Prewetts both requested it off for...lets see, personal reasons, whatever that means. Tonks has it off as his study night, Edgar Bones and Marlene McKinnon have apparently taken an interest in pursuing some self study Astronomy this year, and Andromeda has a Potions tutor that night," he gave a derisive snort before tucking the availabilities away once more, "With that batch if I didn't know any better I would think they were all meeting in some secret Muggle loving society, bunch of mudbloods and blood traitors."

I laughed off his last comment, waving my hand as though the thought was too ludicrous to even reply to but I tucked that list of names into the back of my mind. I found it hard to believe that a handful of fairly vocal blood traitors and Muggleborns with seemingly nothing in common other than their distaste for the notion of pureblood supremacy would be indisposed on the same night as coincidence. Especially not with the current political atmosphere and the fairly organized delivery of the letters in public places. No one person could manage that alone without being discovered.

"Why would Andromeda need a Potions tutor?," I found myself wondering aloud risking a glance in her direction to ensure she was still thoroughly wrapped up in her game, "Her family has been involved in Potions research for generations, isn't that how they made quite a bit of their money?"

Albert's eyes narrowed speculatively at me before carelessly shrugging, "Who knows? Maybe she's rebelling. Maybe Father Black spent too much time mixing Potions and not enough time giving hugs and that's why she won't apply herself. Maybe that explains why Bellatrix is barking mad as well but to be quite honest with you, Thomas, I don't care either way. I almost don't want to ask what the cause is for your concern. Don't tell me you're trying to get Andromeda into your bed. Are there no more pureblood witches in the school that will let you between their legs? Forced to go after blood traitors now?"

"Watch it," I warned darkly.

Albert didn't waver. His eyes met mine with only curiosity and minor amusement.

"What is all this about, Thomas?"

"You know, I think I want to get more involved with the prefect program this year, picking up an extra night of rounds sounds like a pretty good way to do that," I reached across him, snatching the schedule from his side and giving it a little shake, "May I? Now lets see here...Thursday night Miss Black and the Mudblood Tonks have rounds together. Well now, isn't that convenient? I'm free Thursday nights, and truth be told I would much rather spend my time with a blood traitor than a Mudblood so what say you to giving the Hufflepuff an extra day for his studies?"

Albert snatched the parchment back, folding it pointedly before stuffing it in the inner folds of his robes. I could tell from the look on his face he thought himself to have the upper hand in this conversation and he was right.

"Bollocks," he exclaimed with a snort, "It was hard enough getting you to show up to the rounds you were scheduled for and now you want to pick up more nights? Who do you think you're talking to here?"

Despite the resurgence of my temper in that moment I flashed Albert the brightest smile I could, draping my arm across his shoulders and giving it a friendly shake before my thumb found the soft pressure point below the collar bone and dug in. I silenced any noise he might have made by giving him a hard jerk in my direction, guiding his ear close enough to hear my whisper,

"As far as you or anyone else is concerned, I'm starting the year off in a bit of a giving spirit, and if you're questioned then it's probably because I want to shag the Black girl, yeah? But since you're making this difficult for me I will inform you that this is much bigger than you think. Now if you help me with this and all goes accordingly you will find yourself in the favor of some fairly influential people. People who would most certainly remember that you shut your hole and did as you were told...people I know I wouldn't want to be upset with me because I made a fuss about something as silly as switching a few names around on a parchment. Now, do we have an understanding?"

I could almost feel the rage rolling off of Albert in waves. He was most certainly not used to being told what he would and would not be doing and certainly not without explanation. But quite frankly, I couldn't have cared less. I released my thumb from it's hold and patted his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"We do," he snarled, shifting over in his seat to put some space between us, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do before we arrive."

I took my leave of Albert with a rather self satisfied smirk. Perhaps I had underestimated myself. This was looking as though it would be much easier than I had originally anticipated. Of course I should have known that these things have a tendency to become much more complicated than one could imagine, but at the moment I was untouchable.


	4. Shark in the Water

**Crossfire: Chapter Four**

_Andromeda Black_

After all the noise and bustle bouncing off the walls of the castle that night, the sound of my own footsteps echoing along the fifth floor of the Hospital Tower corridor seemed almost eerie. The better part of my arrival at Hogwarts had been spent shuffling first years around, either off the trains, onto the boats and into the castle, or guiding them to their common rooms and dormitories following the opening banquet. Now that everyone was accounted for and settled into their new accommodations for the evening, I finally had a chance to visit my favorite room in the castle.

It was late enough now that all the students had retired either to their dormitories or to their common rooms to converse with their housemates and finish unpacking their trunks. The Slytherin common room wasn't quite as clamorous as it was directly following the ceremonies of the evening, but was still packed with enough students to make relaxation nearly impossible. So after I had spent a reasonable amount of time getting reacquainted with my housemates and swapping summaries of major events that had occurred over the summer months, I had slipped away with my bathrobe thrown over my arm and set out for the prefect's bathroom.

"Evening friend," I whispered to the hulking statue of Boris the Bewildered, giving him a pat on the hand as I passed. Four doors later I arrived at my destination and after a quick mumble of this term's password, "Pumpkin stems," I pushed open the door and was met with a wall of hot steam.

I was surprised to see that the multicolored water in the giant pool-like bath tub had already been running for quite some time, the deep basin was almost full to the top and the mountains of bubbles that rested along the surface of the water seemed undisturbed at first glance. Without the sunshine streaming in through the stain glass windows the only light in the room came from the candles mounted on the surrounding walls. The flickers of light added a soothing touch when coupled with the sound of the rain being picked up by the harsh winds and hurled against the glass and stone.

I gathered all my hair into a messy bun at the top of my head as I kicked my shoes aside and shrugged off my robe. I loosened the tie and lifted it over my head before adding it and my vest swiftly to the pile on the floor in eager anticipation of stepping down into the hot soothing water, closing my eyes, and listening to the sounds of the storm raging outside. My fingers nimbly worked their way down the line of buttons on my long sleeve shirt and I began to shrug it off my shoulders and move closer to the water's edge when I was interrupted.

"I suppose now would be the gentlemanly time to inform you that you have company."

I let out a very undignified yelp of surprise as I tugged the sides of my shirt around me and whipped around. Thomas Nott, who's form had until now been hidden behind a pile of foam was lounging at the far end of the tub, his arms spread out along the edge to keep him afloat. One hand lazily clutched a glass filled with a brown liquid I identified as firewhiskey after I caught sight of the bottle beside it. An amused smile clung to his lips as he tried to adopt the most innocent expression he could, however my eyes were more drawn to the the musculature of his arms and chest which hovered above the surface of the water.

It took me a moment to shake myself, averting my gaze to my toes and hopping back a few feet, replacing the gawking gaze that had no doubt been lingering on my features in that moment with an admonishing one.

"Thomas you scared me half to death! Why didn't you say anything when you saw me come in?"

He gave a laugh, taking a sip of his glass before he answered, "I figured you would spot me soon enough, and when you didn't I let you know before you got too...comfortable."

I felt the heat creep into my cheeks at his words.

"Well I apologize for interrupting you and I'll leave you to your business," I replied curtly as I sunk down to collect my clothing off the floor.

"The bath is plenty big enough for the both of us and there's more than enough foam in here to keep our decency," he answered quickly, gesturing at the opposite end of the basin before adding with a cheeky grin, "I'll even turn my back while you get in. I swear."

I had already been refastening the buttons and making my hasty retreat but I came to a halt, turning back around and raising a brow. His eyes were on me, gauging my reaction to his suggestion

"What if someone else comes in?"

"I can hold my breath."

"You've been drinking."

"You can join me."

A frown pulled at my lips as I mulled that over before pointing out, "You know very well you could loose your badge for that."

Thomas sunk a little further down into the water so only his head was visible bobbing along the surface but the threat of losing his prefect status didn't seem to vex him much at all.

"Well, you would be the only one who could make that happen, but I'm hoping that you'll just hop in here and share a glass with me rather than continue to be stuffy."

"I am not stuffy," I huffed indignantly, drawing a rather pointed look from my companion. I heaved a sigh, giving the door one longing look before narrowing my eyes at Thomas and muttering, "Oh all right, turn around."

Just as he said he would Thomas turned his back to me, folding his arms along the edge of the bath and resting his head on them. As I dropped my pile of clothes back on the floor and continued undressing I could feel my heart pound in my chest. Despite the innocent pretenses this was about the most risque situation I had ever put myself into and I began to wonder exactly why I was agreeing to it.

I tip toed over to the edge of the shallow end of the bath and slipped in, instantly gathering up a bit of foam and arranging it quite particularly to avoid any kind of accidental exposure that may occur.

"All right then?," he called, still keeping his back to where I had come to rest. I peered across the basin, hesitating a moment as I drew in the defined musculature of that back and the way the water dripped off his shaggy hair onto his shoulders. He shifted for a moment, uncomfortable with the silence before asking again, "Andromeda?"

"Oh, um...right, yes I suppose it would be alright for you to turn around now."

He settled back against the wall of the tub, eyeing me with a knowing grin before setting his head back and letting his eyes close with a relaxed sigh. He seemed comfortable enough with the intimacy of the situation, cool and collected. At least one of us was.

"Relax," he muttered and he gave his nearly full glass of firewhiskey a push. The glass slid quickly along the marble, seemingly floating on the water that had collected there before it came to a stop against my hand, "Isn't that what you came here to do?"

I nodded nervously and offered him a strained smile as I lifted the glass and tentatively pressed it against my lips. I inhaled deeply and had to subdue a cough in my chest, jerking a bit in surprise at the fumes wafting off his liquor.

"Careful there, Black, it's fairly strong," he warned, doing his best to conceal his amusement.

My eyes narrowed and I defiantly tipped the glass and my head back. The contents poured down the back of my throat, hardly running over my tongue. I swallowed hard and breathed out in an effort to subdue the burning that spread from my throat to my chest as the liquor slid down.

"It's awful," I hissed.

Across from me, a dark laugh sounded from Thomas' throat.

"Merlin, what do they teach you in that family of yours? I think every young lady should be able to drink whiskey properly," he teased, gripping the bottle and gesturing to me that I watch him. He held the bottle out in front of him delicately, swirling it lightly before tilting it back, letting the brown liquor coat the side of the bottle before he held it to his nose and breathed it in.

"If you don't try to suck it in through your nostrils you can tell it smells sweet." He gestured to my glass with his free hand and I slid it back to him and watched as he poured it with an expert hand before sending it back to me. I eyed it uncertainly. The uncomfortable burn was still present in my chest and I cleared my throat in preparation for a second try, trying to relieve it.

Against my better judgement I copied his actions, letting the thick liquor coat the edge of the glass as I tilted it and hesitantly breathed in. Amidst the lingering scent of the alcohol I picked up some familiar undertones.

"Cinnamon," I muttered, closing my eyes and inhaling again curiously, "Maybe some vanilla?"

"Maybe," Thomas answered with a shrug, watching me intently, "I smell mint and nutmeg.'

He put his lips to the bottle and took a small sip before setting it back down. His tongue rolled it around his mouth experimentally before he swallowed and grinned at me.

"Why don't you try it again, but not like a barmaid polishing off a bottle this time."

I followed his suggestion with much more pleasant results this time and he seemed pleased enough with my reaction. Though I noticed that with the second sip my body felt as though it was flushing with heat and a heavy haze seemed to press in on my senses. I offered him a wide smile before I took another small sip.

"There you are, I'm sure you'll impress just about any gentleman in your father's sitting room with that technique. Just don't tell Old Cygnus who taught you or I'm afraid he'll have my head."

"Well thanks to you I'm sure I'll be a spectacle to behold at the next Christmas party," I answered dryly before a rather undignified giggle escaped my lips at the thought me of leaning up against one of the black leather armchairs in the midsts of my father's conversation and downing one of their crystal glasses full of whiskey before putting in my opinion on the news of the day. At least mother wouldn't be able to chastise me for being a wallflower.

"Aren't you always?," Thomas replied quietly. I caught his gaze again and held it, peering back into his dark eyes questioningly. His expression was unreadable, serious if anything.

"You've been quite the charmer today, Thomas. I'm sure Isabella wouldn't approve of such comments," I challenged.

I thought of the tall lithe Isabella Greengrass and her reaction were she to find out that I had spent the evening sharing a bath with her Thomas Nott with a bit of a smirk. She certainly was no great fan of mine and had no problem making that as clear as day to me. It wasn't that she was openly hostile or spoke anything particularly hateful to me. For the most part she had a tendency to ignore my presence and when she did acknowledge me it was usually while she was peering down her nose with some sort of smug satisfaction what she had again convinced herself she was better than me. It wasn't much different than how she addressed anyone that possessed a lesser degree of blood purity than her own. But all that aside it was common knowledge she had done pretty much everything in her power to dig her claws firmly into Thomas and wasn't about to let him shake free, despite his reputation for his wandering eyes and varying interests.

"Doesn't really matter to me what she approves of or what she doesn't. That's not any of my concern," Thomas countered, looking as though he was curious as to why I would suggest otherwise. I must have looked unconvinced because he added, "Shall I ask you what that Muggleborn Hufflepuff boy would feel about you and I sharing a drink in the nude?"

I wasn't sure which aspect of that comment I should reply to first; the notion that Ted Tonks and I had some sort of intimate relationship or the latter comments about our current situation so instead I sputtered indignantly for a moment while I took another sip of the whiskey and tried to gather a fitting response. Something that was becomingly increasingly more difficult to do due to the aforementioned haze the whiskey was producing in my head.

"That's not very proper talk, Thomas Nott," I replied in the most serious tone I could muster though it didn't sound very convincing in my own ears, especially when you factored in the hiccup that escaped directly afterward. In fact it drew a laugh from my companion that made my cheeks redden.

"Hmmm, shall I apologize then?," he asked slyly as he slipped away from the edge of the tub and disappeared beneath the water. My breath hitched in my throat and I pressed my back against my own edge of the tub as my eyes scanned the foam filled water that had until that point been separating the two of us. Perhaps it was the effects of the whiskey clouding my better judgement but I didn't jump from the tub and scramble away in an effort to avoid his advances as I probably would have done with a clear head. I just waited.

I wouldn't have to wait very long. The top of Thomas' head emerged a foot in front of where I had remained. His eyes scanned my expression and flashed with what I could tell was amusement, though nothing below his nose was visible beneath the water to confirm. Neither of us moved for a moment until finally he drew himself out of the water and right into my line of vision, his head hovering over me and his eyes directly on mine. The amusement that had just been there was gone, replaced with an intent, hungry gaze.

One hand came to rest on the side of my head and I closed my eyes and waited for his lips to brush across mine. Something biting in the back of my head told me that I certainly wasn't acting like myself tonight, that I was dangerously close to becoming one of the girls I watched Thomas take in and churn out and chastise in my own head. But the fluttering in my chest and the excitement of such a spur of the moment kind of decision was enough to push that back. I waited...and waited.

When I peeked my eyes open I found myself alone and turned in time to see the heavy door to the prefects bathroom sliding closed.


	5. Your Surrender

**Crossfire: Chapter Five**

_Thomas Nott_

The clamor in the Great Hall that always accompanied dinner time was winding down to a dull roar as lingering students were finishing up the remainder of their desserts and conversations and preparing to return to their common rooms. Beneath the high ceilings and floating candles the walkways between the tables were now scattered with circles of blue, yellow, and red uniforms milling about. The houses were using this time to converge upon each other as they exited; Gryffindor boys slapping Hufflepuffs on their backs as they debated upcoming Quidditch matches, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls pouring over the newest edition of Witch Weekly, expelling irritating squeals at the latest headlines. It was fairly easy to notice the lack of green in the mix. All of those uniforms had stayed congregated along the edge of the mix, flanking the table and remaining comfortable in their own seclusion. With one exception.

In the center of the Gryffindor table, a flash of green trim was sticking out like a sore thumb. Andromeda had spent the majority of her dinner beside a rather downtrodden, scrawny looking first year boy. Her arm rested firmly around his shoulders as she leaned in, talking quietly against his ear. Even if I had managed to miss the Sorting there was no way I could have possibly missed all the talk in the Slytherin common room. The boy was her younger cousin, Sirius. The only member of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black to not be sorted into Slytherin in its long and impressive history. Likewise there was no way I would have missed the Howler that arrived at breakfast for the boy, or the taunting that had ensued since.

I also noticed that I was not the only one watching this display of familial affection. It only took a glance down my own table to note the hard stares directed at the pair. I was certain that Andromeda could feel the disapproving eyes boring holes into her back as if she had seen them but there was no change in her relaxed posture. She smoothed down the boys hair and adjusted his maroon and gold tie, her slender hand came to rest over the lion on the boy's chest. Whatever she had said to the First Year seemed to change his mood dramatically, a smile had replaced the agitated nervousness that had been etched into his face all night.

"So...enjoying your assignment, I see."

The intonation of the question pulled my attention off of the Gryffindor Table to Lucius Malfoy beside me. He had evidently been following my gaze but his icy stare was on me now, hints of disapproval clear on his features. It was only then that I realized a thin smile had snuck itself onto my lips.

"I'm not sure I like that tone, friend," I replied cooly.

"I'm not sure I like that smile...friend," Lucius challenged, the corner of his lip twisting up into a calculating smirk, "Forgive me, I wasn't aware that being forced to keep company with blood traitors would make you so happy."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that my mind flashed back to the prefect's bathroom of it's own accord. The scent of whiskey on Andromeda's hitched breath as she closed those brown doe eyes of hers and waited...

"The Dark Lord should thank Merlin he didn't chose you for this little task," I snorted, lowering my voice as my eyes shifted among my housemates, ensuring that they were all enthralled in their own conversations, "It's a delicate situation. I can't just throw her over my shoulder and drag her off, she's got to trust me, yeah?"

Lucius huffed indignantly.

"And how is that coming along for you?"

"Well," I replied shortly. I wasn't about to delve into the details of the last time we had been in each other's presence, seeing as how any time she had caught sight of me since that night she had a tendency to suddenly careen into the opposite direction I was heading.

Lucius seemed about to press me further, but any wittiness on his part was delayed as a flash of blond hair and sleek black robes bustled past him down the aisle. Narcissa Black's purposeful footsteps clicked with her annoyance as she made a beeline for where Andromeda was seated, but she was not alone. Evan Rosier, her eldest cousin in the castle kept her on his arm as he directed her to the Gryffindor table.

"What is this, now?," I murmured, as Lucius craned his neck to follow her path.

The youngest sister's eyes kept darting back to her own table as she shuffled up to Andromeda and Sirius, aware that the hasty departure drew attention to her. It was apparent that she had grown tired of listening to her housemates' comments on Andromeda's dining arrangements and was going to put a stop to it. Part of me wondered if that was more to save her sister's face or her own. Judging from the worried wrinkle in her forehead and the reddened cheeks as Evan released her arm and slipped it through Andromeda's, tugging her urgently from her seat that it was the latter.

Evan was a fairly formidable looking seventh year. He possessed that same strong jaw line and high cheek bones that framed the typical patrician good looks of the pureblood families. He was tall and broad shoulders with a confident gait developed from years of social training and a successful run as the Slytherin Quidditch team's keeper. It was common knowledge that the serious and quiet Evan took responsibility for Narcissa and Andromeda while they were in the castle. Whether it was a duty he adopted as their eldest male relative or one that was forced upon him by his mother and aunt, I did not know.

Andromeda didn't put up much of a fight as Evan escorted her from dinner with Narcissa trailing a few feet behind, eyes on her shoes. He had intended to make it appear as if he was doing nothing more than escorting her back to her common room but it was hard to miss the annoyance etched on his face as Andromeda was rushed out beside him with a hand circled firmly around her arm.

"Finally," Lucius breathed with a smirk, wiping his lips carefully with his napkin before pushing away his plate of dessert with a sigh and standing, "It's a shame really, that family has to endure such public embarrassment because of that girl."

"I'm sure they'll survive," I replied absently as I stepped out of my own seat, brushing any stray crumbs that made have found their way into the folds of my robes with an absent flick, "Care to join the hunt? I need to break her off from the pack I'm afraid."

Lucius snickered and motioned for me to lead the way as we took our leave from the hall on the heels of my prey. In the dim light of the corridor outside, we lingered out of sight.

Once free from the prying eyes of the students in the Great Hall, Evan dropped the rouse of dutiful escorting and practically dragged Andromeda across the empty corridor to a private spot under the stairwell.

"Evan...," Narcissa pleaded in a mousey voice as she quickened her steps to catch up to the pair but he silenced any further protests or movement with his hand and she promptly closed her mouth, teeth playing over her lip nervously.

Andromeda on the other hand remained silent, even after he swung her against the cold stone and trapped her there, one hand on either side of her head, his back to Lucius and I. Her eyes closed quickly as her body absorbed the impact but flashed open a moment later to stare up at him in defiance.

"This is not necessary Evan," she murmured coldly.

"You need to stop and think before you act," he hissed in response, leaning his head down so that they could be eye to eye, "These are dangerous times and you of all people don't need to be calling attention to yourself."

"I seriously doubt that sharing a dinner with my own cousin would elicit some ill will against me," she snapped, her arms lifting to push against his chest in an effort to put some distance between the two of them, but to no avail.

"You weren't sitting at our table, Andi," Narcissa interjected as she hesitantly took a step closer, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation, "You didn't hear what people say about you."

Andromeda sighed, her eyes rolling up in annoyance. It was apparent that this wasn't the first time she had been subjected to such a lecture.

"Cissy, I don't care what any of them have to say."

"Well you should," Evan growled, "You think that you can say and do whatever you please with no reprocutions because of your last name? Well let me assure you right now that they don't see much difference between a mudblood and a blood traitor and your blood isn't going to keep you safe if you can't keep your misguided opinions to yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?," Andromeda challenged, throwing her shoulders back proudly despite the slight edge of fear that crept into her voice, "Keep me safe from what?"

Evan finally removed his hands from the wall, stepping back from her as he shook his head.

"What do you think, Andi?" he replied, his voice low, "I've heard your name come up more than once in reference to that little letter that got posted all over. I don't even want to know if you were involved. I'm not trying to give you a hard time, I'm just trying to keep you safe. You think that nothing can touch you but you're wrong. The company you keep, the statement that you just made by sitting at that table...lines are being drawn, and you don't want to be on the wrong side of them. Not now."

Beside me, Lucius stiffened at the mention of the letters, bumping me with his shoulder, pointedly. I certainly did not need Evan shutting my only insider into this potential ring of dissenters down with his vague warnings of impending doom.

I cleared my throat to announce myself as I stepped out of the shadows, my head turned to Lucius beside me. I kept my pace slow, my hands leisurely clasped behind my back as though the two of us had just finished our dinner and were just emerging from the Great Hall.

"Nott, Malfoy," Evan greeted, having snapped his head around at the sound of our approach.

"Ah, Evan! How was your dinner? Hope you ate well, we have practice tomorrow morning," I greeted, striding forward to clap him on the shoulder warmly, "I wouldn't want to have to embarrass you on the first day by sneaking too many by you."

"Not likely," Evan snorted, offering Lucius an acknowledging nod, "I actually just finished, I was just discussing some family matters before heading out to the pitch for a little warm up if you'd like to join me."

"Normally I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to shame you, but I'm afraid I have a prior engagement with your cousin, perhaps Lucius might take you up on your offer though. He's likely a bit rusty as well." I replied with a cheeky grin, gesturing to Andromeda who had stepped out from behind the staircase to stand beside her sister.

Andromeda's brow raised in response, "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Thomas," she replied curtly, staring down her nose at me, "I have prefect rounds tonight."

I would have had to have been born without hearing to miss the venom in her voice.

"Well that's why I found you, of course. We've been scheduled together for Thursdays now," A slow smile stretched across my lips before I added, "I would have thought that you've seen the revised schedule, it's been posted in the prefect bathroom for some time now."

Andromeda's cheeks blushed crimson, "Of course...it must have slipped my mind," she mumbled, averting her gaze to the floor.

I watched Lucius' eyes pass between the two of us knowingly as he clapped his hands to redirect the conversation before realization dawned on Evan as well.

"Well, lucky for me, I have no plans this evening, and if it's alright with you, Evan, I'd like to extend an invitation to Narcissa to come along with us. It's a lovely night and I'm sure she could provide some assistance while we practice."

Narcissa almost jumped at the sound of her name on his lips and didn't even wait for Evan to answer before she exclaimed, "I'd love to! Excuse me, I'll be right back with my cloak," and turned on her heel to rush toward the dungeons.

"Well, I suppose we should start on our rounds," Andromeda recovered in her sister's wake. She narrowed her eyes at me and took a few backward steps to excuse herself from the group before turning on her heel to head down the hall, "Good luck with your practice, boys. Let's get to it Thomas, we have a long night ahead of us."


	6. Brave

**Crossfire: Chapter Six**

_Andromeda Black_

No prefect actually enjoys doing rounds. In fact, given the opportunity I would say that almost every prefect in the program would forgo their patrolling duties if the opportunity presented itself. Spending long nights searching the corridors for students sneaking out of their common rooms isn't exactly a highlight of anyone's time here at the castle. It's dark, it's quiet, and the hours can simply crawl by. That was precisely why I was happy to have been paired up with Ted Tonks for my rounds last year.

Ted had the uncanny ability to make even the most dismal situations at least somewhat enjoyable. We had been paired up together upon entering the prefect program in our fifth year as part of a strategy to promote inter-house unity and foster friendships among students of different backgrounds. Most students were of the opinion that it made their disdain for for rounds even worse. At least in our case we could say that it was a success.

Once a week Ted and I shared about our family, our childhood, our houses, our friends. We told stories of our lives outside the castle and our aspirations for when our seven years were finished. With his rumpled appearance and laid back outlook on life Ted quickly became someone I counted as a friend. In fact I began to look forward to our scheduled time together.

It was a time that I had to let my guard down every week. I could talk candidly about how I felt about my housemates, my fellow purebloods, the political and social atmosphere that was pressing in on the castle from the forces clashing outside. I learned a great deal about Muggle society and what it was like to live in the grey area where these two parallel worlds met. I sympathized with his troubles, he sympathized with mine.

I was a bit shocked when I found out that this term there was a change made to our arrangements. Dumbledore himself had told us how pleased he was with our performance last year. I suppose most of my housemates would have probably been thrilled about the change in the rounds appointments. I, on the other hand, was a little disappointed that I would not have my Hufflepuff partner back.

I was also a bit skeptical about why this sudden change came about. Thomas Nott was already scheduled for rounds with Miss Isabella Greengrass, so technically his rounds duties were already fulfilled. There are a number of prefects that Albert could have chosen to double up on rounds. Mostly the overachieving, power driven types. The prefects that had their hands in the air when Runcorn asked for volunteers. Thomas didn't exactly fit that category. If he actually made it to the meetings he was half asleep in the back and had a well known contempt for rounds interrupting his bustling social life. He always said that night time was when he got the majority of his work done. I doubted it was academic work.

"Lovely night..."

For the first time in the nearly four hours that Thomas and I had been patrolling the empty hallways of the castle, someone had finally spoken. Since we had left our housemates outside of the Great Hall and began our rounds I had kept my eyes forward, my pace brisk, and my demeanor as cold and unapproachable as I possibly could.

"Quite lovely," I agreed shortly.

I had done an exceptional job of avoiding Thomas since our meeting in the prefect bathroom. Those few times when our paths had crossed I was sure he had gotten the idea that I was not exactly thrilled with his behavior. Any time I had seen him approach I had managed to lose myself in the bustle of the hallways, dip into classrooms, or make my way into the girl's dormitory before he had a chance to get close enough to speak.

The problem was I couldn't narrow down exactly what he did that upset me; was it his advance or his departure that had me so on edge? I didn't know and that fueled my annoyance further. I was just projecting my frustration with myself onto him but I didn't care. I hadn't been able to let that night go, kept dwelling on it.

"You know, we've almost finished our rounds ahead of schedule."

"I'm aware."

"There's really not much going on in the castle tonight, is there?," he proceeded conversationally.

"No, no there's not."

The words had only just left my mouth when Thomas' hand shot out and took hold of my shoulder. His grip wasn't tight but it stopped me in my tracks and turned me toward him all the same. For the first time since we had started on our way I risked a glance at his face.

Those cool blue eyes betrayed his discomfort with the situation as he swung his head in order to peer down both sides of the hallway. He was close enough that I could clearly smell that same cinnamon that I inhaled from the fumes of the firewhiskey drifting off his uniform. Perhaps he kept his bottles in the same trunk as his robes. Or perhaps my mind was sliding back to the bathroom of its own accord. His proximity and his gaze above me with that smell in my nose made the heat creep back into my cheeks, though this time it had nothing to do with whiskey and everything to do with embarrassment.

"Then would you kindly stop sprinting about like you have somewhere else to be?"

"I would think you'd like to get this over with quickly as well," I huffed indignantly as I shifted my weight.

"Now what would make you think that?," he asked with a laugh, "I've been trying to get a moment alone with you since the first night we got here and now I have you all to myself again. I wouldn't take that for granted. I had no idea you were such an elusive woman."

"Not funny," I chided and turned away as I felt that heat in my cheeks burn hotter.

Thomas caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, however, and brought my eyes back to his. My breath hitched at the contact before I steadied myself. His face was steely, as though he was trying to consider which emotion he wanted his face to convey and was holding them all back until he decided on a fitting one.

"I apologize for my actions in the bathroom. It wasn't right for me to have put you in that kind of a situation. A lack of judgement on my part that I'll attribute to my drink of choice that evening," he conveyed earnestly, "Not that it is any excuse, but all the same, I'm sorry."

"Why did you leave?"

The words escaped my mouth so suddenly that even I blinked in surprise at my own boldness. It certainly took Thomas aback as a startled expression replaced that guarded visage he had adopted. There he had been apologizing for making an advance at me and I had brushed it off and asked why he hadn't continued.

He released my chin and took a step back, shaking his head in confusion, "Sorry?"

"For Merlin's sake, please don't read too far into this, but I'd like to know why you left, please," I pressed, crossing my arms across my chest as I challenged him with my own serious gaze.

Thomas let out a laugh and passed a hand through his dark hair thoughtfully. The movement made him appear almost sheepishly boyish, something I found to be quite ironic given the circumstances. My question had caught him off guard and he had no idea how to respond. This was evidently not the direction he had thought this conversation was going to go.

"I thought you wouldn't have been so complacent if I hadn't had gotten you to drink in the first place," he answered with a shrug, "I suppose I didn't want to take advantage of your state."

"Why do I have a hard time believing that?," I pressed as I turned on my heel and picked up our rounds again, this time with a more leisurely stroll as I headed back to the dungeons. Thomas glided up beside me, mimicking my posture with his hands clasped behind his back as he walked. Our footsteps clicked in time and echoed off the dank stone walls.

"If I had to guess it would be because you've heard some vicious rumors about my character and have come to your own conclusions without trying to learn the facts for yourself," he replied, a devilish grin on his lips.

"I hardly think you've even convinced yourself of that," I replied with a smirk of my own, "Your...conquests are legendary in the dungeons, Thomas Nott, I'm afraid your reputation precedes you."

"By the same token, maybe I haven't heard any such gossip about you and came to the conclusion that it would be better to quit while I was ahead. You are a Black after all, if I wanted to snog you then I would likely have to go through all that proper shite first."

Before I could protest, his hand wrapped around mine and tugged me gently around to face him. He dipped into an elaborate bow, knee bent, arm sweeping out, but keeping those brilliant blue eyes on mine the whole time with an intent, watchful gaze. His lips parted and their sensitive skin brushed across my knuckles so lightly it sent a chill straight through me that silenced any objection that had been on my tongue.

I was frozen. This wasn't the first time I had been subjected to such a dated and purposeless custom. My reaction had always been to smile politely and tug my hand away as soon as the opportunity presented itself. It had never caused the flush of warmth, or the fluttering pressure to build in my stomach as it was at the moment.

"My poor Mum, she spent all that time teaching me the proper shite and I almost never do any of it," he spoke quietly against my skin as he straightened himself back up, the devious look in his eyes at odds with his polished display, "But maybe I should start, it seems to be working just fine on you."

"I've been on the receiving end of enough polished shite in my life that it's lost it's shine, I'm afraid," I replied curtly as I pulled my hand from his grasp, "Your assumptions about me are off as well I see. You're confusing me with my sisters."

"Oh really," Thomas pressed, "Why would you say that?"

"You know as well as I do that they love to feel elevated," I explained with a grin, "It makes them feel different...important, I think. So they appreciate when a man will approach them with all that custom and deference."

"Not you though."

"No, not me."

"Then what would you have me do?"

He shrugged his shoulders, at a loss after my dismissal, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes.

I reached forward and took his right hand into my own, intertwining our fingers at my side as I pressed my back against the stone wall, pulling his arm so that he would shuffle his feet and close the distance between us. My free hand found his opposite wrist and lifted it so that his left hand came to rest against the wall beside my head. The arrangement made his body lean forward into mine. His open robe fell around us, shielding us in the shadow of the flickering torches on the wall. The contact made my skin ignite and my blood rush. I couldn't describe it if I tried, but being there with his face hovering above mine made my heart pound so hard I was sure he could feel it against his chest. I swallowed hard and maintained his gaze.

"Andromeda...," Thomas questioned, but didn't make a movement. His eyes scanned my face for some betrayal of what was in my head that would instruct him on how he should act next. But he didn't pull away or move to stop me, which was encouraging. It wasn't until I slid my hand down toward the inside of his forearm that he made any movement. As soon as my finger tips slipped beneath the fabric of his sleeve he pulled his hand off the wall. He pressed his full weight against me, buried that hand in my hair, and pressed his lips to mine but not with the fervor that I was expecting, maybe even fearing from him.

The pressure was no more than when his lips brushed my knuckles, unpretentious and reserved, barely there. I lost myself in the subtlety of his hitched breath escaping onto my cheek and his hand sliding down to cradle my neck. His eyes never closed, never wavered from mine. Everything about him was deliberate, controlled as if he was close to losing himself but was holding back to keep from overwhelming me. It wasn't until my lips trailed experimentally along his jawline to his neck that a noise of approval or apprehension sounded in his throat and he tugged me against him, his arms snaking around my back and his mouth falling on mine with no restraint.

His lips found a rhythm, that even my own inexperience couldn't miss. It was too easy to push away my worries about appearing clumsy, he seemed so enthralled that it obviously was of no consequence to him. The heat of his weight pushing against me contrasted with the dank cold of the stone at my back. My hands moved down his sides, feeling the muscles beneath his vest and shirt tense at the touch before he pulled his head back from mine. His hair was unruly now, thanks to my hand passing through it in a few different directions and pulling it out of place. His eyes burned with a desire that even his stoney face couldn't hold back.

"What is all this," he murmured as his finger brushed my cheek, the corner of his lip pulling up into a sly little smile.

"You asked what I would have you do," I breathed, "So I showed you."

The flickering of the torches down the hall and the sound of two hands clapping together slowly, condescendingly alerted me that we were not alone. Thomas took a step back in surprise, smoothing down his robe as he too turned toward the noise.

"Yes, you certainly did," cooed Isabella Greengrass as her tall, slim figure slipped out out from around the corner. She crossed her arms across her chest as she approached, making no effort to conceal the wand in her hand. Her mouth was set in a thin line, eyes hard and peering straight past Thomas, "Very brave of you to show him right outside the common room too."

It was obvious she had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red and she spoke as though she was choking back a sob. I had heard a rumor or two that she and Thomas had been on the outs from whatever they were since our return to Hogwarts and that she wasn't exactly taking it well.

"Isabella," Thomas greeted sternly as he moved to keep himself between the two of us with his hands up as if he was trying to settle her down with them, "Is this really necessary?"

"Oh I don't know, Thomas, is it necessary?," Isabella hissed as she rounded him, pointing her wand in my direction making slow, challenging circles with her wrist, "You tell me you need time for your studies and space for yourself this term but this doesn't exactly look like space to me. This looks like you've been having your way with the blood traitor here behind my back. I think I'm handling this quite well. In fact, I think I should blow her pretty little head all over the stone for this."

My hand dipped into the folds of my robes to grip the handle of my own wand as I stepped off the wall, "I don't think you should be threatening me, Isabella," I replied as I approached her, moving around Thomas to keep her facing me, "I haven't done anything wrong here."

Isabella threw back her head in a laugh, "You aren't Bellatrix, Andromeda, don't try to intimidate anyone, it won't work," she snapped, "What happened? Even the Tonks boy doesn't want to touch you now? You have to come throw yourself at the first of your own kind that will have you to try and take some of that Muggleblood dirt off your name? Well you made a good choice because know I know he really will have anyone."

The anger at her accusations surged through me like a wave. I drew my wand out of its pocket and raised it out in front of myself in a defensive stance. My eyes flicked to Thomas who still kept himself between the two of us, one hand raised in each of our directions in an attempt to keep the argument from escalating.

"I might not be Bellatrix but I know my way around a duel just as well so I suggest you don't go there with me tonight," I replied, my tone even, "I understand that you're hurt so I'll look past your threats because I don't want to fight with you."

"Shut it, Black," Isabella snarled and raised her wand to attack. I steadied myself, dropping into a bit of a crouch as my father had aways instructed and held my wand out in front of me, waiting.

The attack never came however. Isabella's eyes left mine, focusing on something behind me that made her pause, take a deep breath in and lower her wand. It wasn't until I saw Thomas relax his posture that I risked a glance over my shoulder.

Lucius Malfoy stood shoulder to shoulder with Evan, Narcissa peering nervously out from behind them. They were both in their practice robes, smudged with dirt and grass, carting their brooms over their shoulders. Apparently Isabella had weighed her odds of getting a good hex in and disappearing back to the common room swayed in my favor with the new arrivals.

"Now what have we missed here this evening?," Lucius pondered with a smirk as he and Evan sauntered over to take Thomas' side between us.

"I'm not sure but it looks like you were just leaving," Evan quipped as he moved to stand in front of Isabella, his broad shoulders looming over her frame, dwarfing her, "Goodbye, now."

Isabella's gaze flicked between myself and Evan, positively seething with anger. She set her jaw and slipped her wand back in her robes before turning on her heel and stalking back down the hall and around the corner to the common room entrance. The echo of the door slamming against the frame let us know that we were alone. For a moment nobody spoke, putting the pieces of what they had walked in on together to get a picture of what had transpired before they arrived.

"Well...I know that I'm exhausted and you boys have a game to rest up for, so if you wouldn't mind escorting me back to the dormitories, I'll be on my way now. Good night, Andi, Thomas."

Narcissa, bless her, broke the silence with a smile, sauntering past me with a knowing look before hooking Evan by one arm and Lucius by the other.

"Good night, Narcissa," Thomas replied, nodding his head at her departure and gesturing with his hand to proceed as she half dragged the two Slytherins away with her. Neither put up a fight, but both peered back over their shoulder at Thomas and I. Both had a look that told Thomas he would be explaining himself upon his arrival to the dormitories.

"Well that was a bit of a surprise, eh?," Thomas breathed, shoving his hands into his pockets with uncertainty as he gauged my reaction, "The kiss part I mean, that was a pleasant surprise but the rest of it...not so pleasant."

"Yeah...sorry, I think I'm just gonna...go," I muttered as I wrapped my arms around myself, hunching my shoulders a bit as I turned away from him to follow Narcissa's footsteps.

The walk to the common room entrance was a silent one. It wasn't until I muttered the password and went to step through that Thomas shuffled to block my way, resting his hands on my my shoulders and pinning me with a serious look and a deep sigh.

"Listen...I'll deal with Isabella and I'll deal with Evan. I know that tonight took a sudden and definite turn for the worst but I don't want you avoiding me tomorrow and ducking down hallways all week. I'd like to see you after the game if that's alright with you."

"I hope you don't think that what Isabella said was true," I rushed out quicklh as he released my shoulders and stepped back to allow me to cross over into the common room, shutting the door behind me, "I'm not trying to-"

"I know," Thomas interrupted, silencing me with a finger to my lips, "Tomorrow."

"Are you really sure thats a good idea, I mean I hope you're not trying to-"

"Tomorrow."

"But Evan is going to be-"

"Andi...tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is."


	7. Wires

**Crossfire: Chapter Seven**

_Thomas Nott_

"Thomas...Thomas, wake up! We have a problem."

It had been a very long night for me. Prefect duty nights are always long, but add on the surprise attack from my disgruntled ex, a long winded explanation to Evan Rosier of why the aforementioned row had begun in the first place (Heh, well I suppose it all began when Isa found me up against the wall with your cousin), and a bit of speedy disaster control with the overbearing male guardian. I swear the sun was starting to peek through the stain glass before I managed to shut the curtains of my bed with the certainty that Evan wouldn't smother me with my own pillow as I slept. Not that he wasn't upset, just thankfully not upset enough to cause any permanent physical damage.

Now Lucius was shaking me out of the short, blissful sleep I had managed to fall into and yelling in my ear.

"Get...off...," I mumbled incoherently, taking a blind swing of my fist in the general direction that I imagined the shaking was coming from and pushing my head further into the pillow. Lucius was evidently more awake than I was because he managed to catch that fist and pull me into a sitting position.

"Seriously, Thomas, you're going to want to see this."

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and blinked enough to focus on the blond boy beside my bedside. His lips were pressed into a thin, nervous line and he gestured with a tilt of his head for me to follow him into the common room.

I let out a frustrated sigh but complied anyway, grabbing my dressing robe off of the post and tip toeing out of the dormitory. I let the door click closed behind me with a grumble, securing the tie around my waist as I followed Lucius with a yawn. The common room was empty, thankfully. Most students had already made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast or had decided to skip the first meal of the day for some much needed sleep, as I was planning to do.

"Come now, let's have it. And this had better be important too because we have a game today, I've had no sleep, and I feel like shite. What is it?"

Lucius directed me to the large board that sat on the far wall of the common room. It was intended for students to post notes about various events at the school, ask for or offer tutoring services, post about a lost pet, and the like. But today a fresh parchment was hung in the center of it. I recognized the neat scrawl instantly and felt my heart jump into my throat.

_My brothers and sisters,_

_I want you all to take a moment today to ask yourselves a very simple question._

_If not me, then who?_

_If I turn a blind eye to the prejudice and hatred that has infected this world for too long, then who will notice? If I pretend I don't hear all the "mudblood" and "half breed" slurs that are uttered by those around me, who will say that it is not acceptable talk? If I don't take a stand against all the violence and murder carried out in the name of pureblood society, who will make these atrocities stop?_

_Every time we turned a blind eye to these things we have given our consent for them to continue. It is our silent acceptance that has set the stage for the horrors we are experiencing today. By not doing anything to change this notion of pureblood supremacy we have encouraged our neighbors to act on their dangerous ideas and fueled them with the belief that they are right._

_Don't stand by and let the few speak for the many. Don't condone the torture and slaughter of innocent witches and wizards with your silence. I'm not asking you to raise your wands against your neighbors, simply to speak out against these tragedies. Change the consciousness of our society. Let's not be stunned and frightened into silence. Because if you don't, who will?_

"They're all over the castle," Lucius hissed, tearing the parchment from the board and crumpling it between his hands, "I'm willing to bet they found their way into all the common rooms as well, and that's not the worst of it. Somehow they managed to get them out of the castle too, the Prophet even ran it."

"How nice of them," I muttered, pressing my fingers to my temples and squeezing my eyes closed to ward off the headache I was sure was on its way. I dreaded the arrival of the mail at breakfast. I was sure to have a nice little parcel addressed to me from Father regarding the matter. Or worse, correspondence from the Dark Lord, himself. I felt a chill creep beneath my skin at the thought, "He won't be happy when he sees this."

"Do you think it's Andromeda?," Lucius asked. His careful tone pricked my anger. He too had been present for the explanation of the events that had transpired the night before and he had already voiced his opinion that he thought I was enjoying my task just a little too much. His suspicion was the last thing I needed.

"Very likely," I replied as nonchalantly as I could, "If she didn't write it then I'm sure she's at the very least involved in distributing it. I can't think of anyone else that would have the audacity to want to post that in our common room."

"Well, you two are getting nice and close, now aren't you? I'm sure you'll be able to find out for sure soon enough and this whole silly little facade of yours can be over," he replied. He meant it to sound encouraging. A little too forced for my ears though.

I made a noncommittal noise in response.

"That is what all of this is, right? A facade?," he pressed. Dear old Lucius. Never did know how to quit when he was ahead.

"What is that supposed to mean?," I snarled, stepping toe to toe with my dear friend, "Now I believe that we already went through this, so if you have something to say then I suggest you come right out and say it because you're supposed to be helping me, not doubting me."

"Sorry, mate," he replied cooly, despite the noticeable narrowing of his eyes at my challenge, "I just wanted to be sure. I'd hate to see you wind up dead because you became...distracted."

"That won't be a problem. I'm quite focused, thanks," I assured him as I took a few steps back, rubbing the back of my neck listlessly as I watched him toss the crumpled parchment into the burning embers remaining from the fire set the night before.

I hoped my tone was convincing enough because the truth was, I wasn't quite as focused as I was telling Lucius I was. I didn't want to admit that a good deal of my anger at his insinuation was due to the fact that I let him see through me enough to cause doubt. At the time I believed whole heartedly that pureblood witches and wizards should be elevated in status above the likes of Muggleborns and even halfbloods. I was proud that I came from a pureblood family. I enjoyed the Dark Arts in theory, but had limited practice with them seeing as how I had only turned seventeen a month before returning to Hogwarts and still had the Trace on me. However I wasn't sure if I had it in me to kill or be killed for "the cause". I told myself that I would be able to do what was asked of me because I had no choice. If I didn't, it would be my life that would be forfeited. But deep down I had doubts if I would actually be able to take responsibility for the loss of another's life.

I knew as soon as I lost myself in the haze of her kiss that I was losing the careful balancing act that I had decided was the only way I would be successful in this task. I had to draw Andromeda in close enough to trust me and share with me what the Dark Lord needed to know, but keep her far enough away that it would be no concern to me what would happen to her when I handed her over to him. If I wasn't sure I would be able to do that when I thought she was nothing more than an over privileged aristocrat rebelling against her upbringing with all of her blood traitor morality, I was even more doubtful now.

She was trusting. So faithful in her fellow man, it almost didn't seem fair that she would bring this on herself. She was young, naive, and sheltered. She didn't understand that raising her voice would warrant her death in this political atmosphere and I was sure she wouldn't imagine that her own sister would be more than willing to have her sacrificed at the Dark Lord's alter.

She was disarming. She pulled me into her and right through the neat little barriers that I had built between us for this mission. I had to put them back up, and quick. Nothing good was going to come from really knowing her or caring for her. Unfortunately that is exactly what something in me was telling me to do. Thoughts of "How am I going to get this girl to give me what the Dark Lord needs to know?," were merging with, "When am I going to see this girl again?" Terribly, terribly inconvenient for both of us.

"What are you going to do now?," Lucius asked as he dropped into the seat of the plush green armchair in front of the dying fire, giving it a prod with the fire poker as it engulfed the remains of the parchment that was Andromeda's death sentence.

"I'll bring it up to her, see how she reacts. I doubt she's going to come right out and claim authorship of it to me right now, she doesn't trust me like that yet and if I ask her it will only make her suspicious," I replied as I took the seat across from him, leaning my elbows on my knees and running my hands through my hair with frustration.

"I'll see if Narcissa says anything about it if you'd like. Perhaps Andromeda confided in her about her intentions. It seems unlikely that she wouldn't let her own sister know if she was trying to accomplish something that big, even if they don't exactly see eye to eye on the topic," Lucius offered.

"That would be helpful, just don't say anything to Macnair if he asks about it. I feel like he's more suited for brute force than the deceitful cunning aspect of all of this. I'd rather have you on my side for that," I confided, standing to give my compatriot a clap on the shoulder, "I'm going to go get dressed."

"I think I'll head to the Great Hall and grab some food before class," Lucius replied, returning the gesture before crossing the room to the entranceway, "You should as well, you've got to be on your game today. The Gryffindors have got a good team this year."

"Yes, Mother."

Lucius snickered at my snide response before I heard the door push against the stone floor and the rush of cold from the dungeon corridors rushed in.

"And make sure you put on a clean pair of-"

"Oof!"

Lucius' motherly advice was cut off by the very distinct sound of two bodies colliding followed by books, rolls of parchment, and other such personal belongings scattering across the entranceway from the impact. I turned to find Lucius had maintained his gravity, but a small framed, dark haired girl in expensive Slytherin robes was at his feet.

"Miss Black," he greeted her coldly, stepping over her as she made an effort to collect herself off the floor with a look of distaste, "Forgive me, you caught me off guard. I tried to catch you, but I guess my reflexes are off today."

"Well that's a shame, I hope you manage to get them back in order before the game, Lucius," she spat as she pulled herself up, dusting off her backside as she fixed him with a glare.

"My apologies," he muttered as he nodded in mock respect in her direction before turning on his heel and continuing on his way down the hall, shooting me a smirk over her head as he did so.

I felt my jaw tense of it's own accord. Angry. I shouldn't be angry about the foul treatment of someone I was only using as a means to a rather bleak end.

"Let me help you with that," I called as I made my way over to where she stood, stooping to pick up quills, ink wells, and parchment that had scattered in the wake of her fall. She jumped at my voice, wide brown eyes snapping up to see who had witnessed the scene unfold, but noticeably relaxed when her eyes caught mine.

"At least someone is a gentleman," she answered quietly as she lifted her bag off the floor and held it out to me so I could return her belongings. She offered a smile as she watched me retrieve the last of her parchment rolls in my arms and deposit them safely back where they had been, "Thank you...I'm a bit clumsy today I'm afraid."

"No matter, are you alright?," I inquired, reaching out to smooth down a strand of her dark brown hair that had been jostled free of it's loose bun in the impact. She made no move to stop me. Not that I thought she would, but I really wished she would have slapped my hand away. It probably would have made me feel better. Instead she just smiled wider.

"I'll make it. I've got to get going though, I have an essay due and no where near enough time to get it done if I want to make it to the game," she replied as she bustled past me toward the girls' dormitory.

"Would you still like to meet up afterward," I called after her hopefully, watching the poof of dark hair bounce with her quick steps, her robe billow out behind her as she moved.

"Of course," she called over her shoulder but stopped and turned around to face me with a sheepish grin, "You know, that's the second time you've been here to help collect me off the ground. Were you sent here to watch over me?"

Guilt. Something I hadn't really felt before in my life. I had done a lot of things I probably shouldn't have been proud of. Hurt a lot of people, emotionally, physically, purposely. I'd never really felt it. But an off handed comment by the blood traitor Black sister made it roll over me in a wave. I braced myself against it and returned her smile.

"Something like that."


	8. All We Are, We Are

**Crossfire: Chapter Eight**

_Andromeda Black_

The Slytherin common room was filled to capacity that evening with nearly every one of my housemates in attendance as we waited for our Quidditch team's triumphant return to the dungeons. Many hadn't even bothered to deposit their cloaks to their dormitories and the most intense fans still donned the green and white paint they had decorated their face with in honor of the commencement of the Quidditch season. The celebratory singing and shouting had echoed throughout the castle and hadn't quieted down yet, with good reason. It had been a long and well played game against our rivals in Gryffindor and for the first time in two years we had finally beat them in the first game of the year.

Lucius Malfoy had managed to catch the snitch in the fourth hour of the game with what even I had to admit was a fairly impressive dive off of his broomstick to the ground below. Unfortunately, Thomas, who had been flying behind him, caught the bludger Gideon Prewett had meant for Lucius in the back of the head and took a much less graceful, much less conscious topple off of his own broomstick to join his friend at the bottom of the pitch. At least Lucius emerged no worse for ware.

That almost sounded genuine.

I had succumbed to Narcissa's request that I stay with her to congratulate Evan on his victory. By congratulate Evan I knew she meant dole out a quick hug to him in order to put herself conveniently in Lucius Malfoy's way, but I wasn't about to argue. Besides, I figured I would have better luck convincing the new mediwitch to allow me in after I had given her proper time to stop fussing over Thomas rather than busting through the Hospital Wing doors straight from the Quidditch pitch. So I had joined my sister on one of the plush couches by the door while I waited patiently for my opportunity to slip out.

"Andromeda, what a surprise! I thought you would have been in Gryffindor tower by now with the rest of the mudwallowers, consoling them on their loss."

I didn't even have to raise my eyes to locate the source of the snide comment. Isabella Greengrass had been seated on the opposite couch since her arrival, all legs and attitude as usual. She had likely been waiting for the upper hand before fanning the flames of our dispute and had found it now that she was surrounded by her seventh year dorm mates, who let out a chorus of giggles at her witty greeting. I had been ignoring her little quips all day, but her self satisfied smile was beginning to irritate me.

"Isabella, always a pleasure. It's nice to see you off your back for a change," I replied with as innocent a smile as I could muster. My response warranted a nudge in the shoulder from Narcissa. Her expression let me know that she didn't find my greeting to be characteristic of a woman of my status despite the smile she was doing her best to keep off of her lips.

"Wasn't your cousin just sorted into Gryffindor as well? I'll give him credit. I didn't think anyone could shame your family's name more than you have, but at least you found yourself in Slytherin somehow. He's brought the whole Black legacy down around your arrogant heads," Isabella spat in response.

Any retort of mine would have been silenced by the uproar as the door to the common room swung open and the Quidditch team arrived to the exuberant cheers of their housemates. I stood from my seat to join the throng that had ambushed them in the doorway, but Narcissa moved just as quickly to close the distance between herself and Isabella.

Narcissa caught the other girl by the crook of her elbow just as she was walking away and pulled her attention back to her. Although Isabella was older and had quite a few inches on my sister, I caught the flash of nervousness in her eyes at Narcissa's touch. I was sure that had less to do with my youngest sister's intimidation factor and more to do with my eldest's instability and soft spot for 'Cissy.

"You won't catch me defending my sister's choice in company very often, Isabella, but you would do well to remember that she is still my sister. Don't use her to try to drag my family's name through the dirt simply because Nott has had his fill of you and moved on, it's unbecoming."

And with that Narcissa released her arm, turned on her heel and left Isabella there, speechless. I had to give my dear sister credit, she was certainly her mother's daughter. When need be, she could deliver a devastating blow and tell you to sod off with all the demure grace and sophistication of an aristocrat.

"All right there, little sister?," I teased as she maneuvered us to the back of the crowd.

"That trollop has been running her mouth about you all day and it isn't even warranted this time," she replied cooly, standing on her tip toes to catch Evan's attention and enthusiastically wave him over to where we stood. I could have pointed out that Lucius had his arm draped across Evan's shoulders at the time but that was just coincidence, of course.

"Congratulations, Evan, you were fantastic," Narcissa complimented our cousin in the midsts of all of the back slaps and shoulder shakes he was enduring.

"Smashing," I agreed, reaching up to wrap my arms around Evan's neck and give him a squeeze, "But if you'll excuse me I've got to get going."

"Now where in the world are you off to in such a hurry?," he questioned with a raised brow before feigning a moment of miraculous realization, hitting himself in the head with the heel of his hand, "Ah yes, the hospital wing. Making sure Thomas doesn't miss out on his part of the celebratory cheer, yeah? All this house pride...it just warms my heart, Andi."

"Enough of that," I chided him, quickly dodging his attempt to fluff my hair around, an obnoxious older cousin trait that unfortunately hadn't disappeared with age, "You seem fine with the notion, oddly enough."

"He's from a decent family, I don't have much to complain about there," he conceded, "I'm just worried about his intentions. He has a reputation to keep a warm bed, if you catch what I mean, and I'd rather not have your name associated with that."

"Subtle, Evan. Do me a favor, let's save the intentions talk for another day, shall we? You have a party to enjoy and I'd rather put off that awkwardness for as long as possible. Besides, I think you have more than one bed you might want to keep an eye on," I pointed out, nodding to the corner of the fireplace Narcissa and Lucius had shuffled off to for a private chat.

"Go on then," he grumbled, giving me a little push towards the door. I didn't need to be excused twice.

It wasn't a long walk from the dungeons to the fourth floor hallway that housed the Hospital Wing. Even though I hadn't had any injuries or illnesses that landed me in the care of the mediwitch up to that point in my time at the castle, I still could make the journey with my eyes closed due to the fact that the Prefect's bathroom was located on the same floor. Clearly, I was familiar enough with that particular room.

I pushed open the heavy, wooden double doors of the infirmary and stepped through into the Hospital Wing. The sound of my entrance echoed loudly down the high arched corridor and I winced, turning around to let the doors close behind me as quietly as possible in order to stay on Madame Pomfrey's good side. Pomfrey had only taken up residency at Hogwarts last year, but she ruled over the Hospital Wing like a she had been there since the castle's inception. She had earned the reputation of being a strict witch, especially when it came to her patients.

"Andromeda? Are you alright?"

Ted Tonks' head poked out from the mediwitch's small office, brown eyes narrowed in a gaze of concern. His gold and black tie was hanging at an angle and loose, the knot pulled down almost to the center of his chest. Likewise, his white button up was untucked, hanging out from beneath his wrinkled vest. Fair, untidy hair was sticking out in all directions as if he had been running his hands through it for some time. I had to shake my head and laugh.

"If I didn't know you were incapable of dressing yourself it would look like you and Madame Pomfrey were holed up in there."

"Jealous?," Ted teased, offering me that smile of his. I had told him once that he could light up a room with his cheeky little grin. He had that effect on people. His face was so expressive that you could almost always judge how he was feeling from it, and when he was happy you couldn't help but share in his joy.

"Hardly," I shot back as I reached out to straighten out his tie before he swatted my hand away, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Looking through some of Madame Pomfrey's medicine books," he gestured to the large oak desk in the center of the office which was covered with rolls of parchment and dog eared books, "I told her I was interested in becoming a healer, ya'know? So she lets me work with her sometimes, when it's not too busy of course. She's down in the dungeons right now, seeing Slughorn about getting some ingredients for an elixir for Nott. Did you see that bludger he took? Must've raddled his brains a bit, eh?"

"I'm sure," I replied quickly, gazing down the rows of empty beds until I spotted the only occupied one, tucked away in the far back corner, "Is that him?"

"Sure is," Ted replied with a shrug, "He came to by the time he got here and tried to get Pomfrey to let him go back to the dorms, but she said he's stuck here with her and the ladies of Slytherin will have to do without him for the evening. He's been out since."

"He'll be alright though?," I proceeded as nonchalantly as I could.

"I'm sure, Pomfrey has already started treating him and the elixir she's brewing up now should help. What's with all the concern, Florence Nightingale?," he pressed, the hint of a frown pressing on his features.

"Just curious is all," I answered before furrowing my brow in confusion, "Wait, Florence who?"

"Nightingale? The Muggle nurse with the lamp?," Ted explained but when he saw no realization dawning on my features he waved it off, not wishing to delve into Muggle history with me again, "Forget it. But speaking of your charming housemates, how did the appearance of another parchment go over in the dungeons?"

I narrowed my eyes in response, silently willing Ted to hold his tongue. I was thankful that he didn't find it necessary to press why I had come to check on Thomas any further than he had. In fact he seemed as eager to change the subject as I was. Unfortunately, the subject he chose was one that had begun to put me a bit on edge, something I wasn't sure he comprehended fully.

Ted certainly understood that there were wizards and witches who considered Muggleborns to be inferior, he had been on the receiving end of that prejudice since he turned eleven and discovered our world. He read about the disappearances and attacks on Muggles. He knew there was a faction of pureblood fanatics that were beginning to cause a stir throughout Wizarding England. But I don't think he fully grasped what they were trying to accomplish and what they would do to achieve it.

What I don't think he understood at the time was that if those pureblood fanatics had their way, they wouldn't think twice before they exterminated any witch or wizard without a family history of magic along with anyone that did that stood in their way. He never sat at dinner parties where even the social elite envisioned the destruction of Wizarding society as he knew it and the birth of an era where Muggles' only purpose was to serve their needs.

He didn't understand that all those seemingly refined gentlemen needed was a spark, a leader with a plan to make their ideas possible. Someone that would fill their heads with the grandeur they would possess once they annihilated the infection that they lead spread among them. He also didn't understand that for every maniac that flocked to the Dark Lord there were ten witches and wizards that would support and defend them. He didn't see how fierce a hold on the Wizarding families this man could have and just how terrible it might be if nobody put a stop to the Dark Lord's rise to power.

I wanted to share his belief that I, along with the Prewett, McKinnon, and Bones families would be safe because of our blood. There wasn't many families that could boast the kind of history of purely magical heritage that we could and in their eyes it may have been counter productive to trim limbs off of such a small forest of trees. But at the same time, a blood traitor wasn't of much use in their vision and Evan's nervousness about my associations had pricked my fear a bit.

"Don't worry, Andi. Nott is our only company and Pomfrey knocked him out with that potion she gave him. He won't be spreading our secrets around any time soon," Ted assured as he hopped onto the gurney beside him and gestured me to follow.

"Well it certainly wasn't accepted with open arms, but I don't think any of us expected as much," I replied, easing onto the white sheets beside him, "Narcissa and Evan have alluded to the fact that most of them know I must have had something to do with it, but again that's no big surprise. How did the Hufflepuffs react?"

"Everyone is still going on about it. I think it made a lot of them think about what you said, which is good. I haven't heard anything negative, that's for sure. Gideon told me that there was practically a standing ovation in Gryffindor when it arrived, Marlene said the same for Ravenclaw too," Ted replied, giving my shoulder an encouraging shake, "You did a good thing, Andi. You should let everyone know who to thank for it, my thanks aren't enough."

"That's enough for me, Ted," I answered with a smile, nudging him back playfully, "Besides, I'm lucky the Slytherins haven't tied me up and thrown me in the lake just because they think it was me, I'd hate to see what would happen if I confirmed their suspicions. I don't want to be recognized for this. I just want to see a change and if that happens without me having to put my name to any of those parchments that will be fine, and I'll keep writing until I see it. I'm just happy that you all are willing to help."

"Will we be meeting again this week?," Ted asked hopefully, jumping off the gurney and offering his hand to help me, "Or do you want to let all the talk settle down before you cause another stir?"

"No, I think it would be good for us to meet again as soon as possible," I replied, taking his hand to allow him to help me down, "We should discuss what else we should bring up now that we have everyone's attention."

"Just say the word, love," he answered with a wink, "I'll come running with quill and parchment in hand."

"Tuesday it is. I'll spread the word around," I assured him quickly as I released his hand and took a few steps back, "I'm just going to check up on Thomas quick and then I've got to get back to the party."

"Ah, right," Ted mumbled, passing his hand through his hair absently, "I should get back to the books anyway. Enjoy your night, Andi."

"Night, Ted."

He ducked back into the office and I waited until I heard the squeak of the chair as he sat before I made my way down the aisle to where Thomas lay. His Quidditch robes were folded neatly on the cart beside his bed, still stained with grass, dirt, and blood. He was now clad in the standard patient robes of the hospital, curled up on his side beneath the blindingly white sheets. He still seemed to be sleeping peacefully from the effects of whatever potion Pomfrey had given him when he arrived. His dark hair poked out from beneath the bandages wrapped tightly around his head, the back of which were stained with dark, dry blood where he had been hit.

I frowned at the sight of it as I carefully took a seat beside him on the gurney and leaned over him. My hand reached out to brush some of the matted hair from his eyes and trailed down the length of his jawline softly. The touch made him stir and he turned his head towards me before his blue eyes blinked open and fixed me with a hazy stare. I retracted my hand but just as soon as his eyes opened, his heavy lids came down again and he dropped his head back into his pillow with a sigh. The potion hadn't made its way out of his system yet.

"Feel better, Thomas," I whispered as I adjusted the blankets over his shoulders and lowered my head to place a kiss on his cheek.

"Miss Black, if I thought that you could treat Mister Nott's head injury with your lips I would have sent for you already."

Madame Pomfrey's irritated voice broke the silence of the Hospital Wing and made me jump off the gurney so fast I nearly knocked over the medical cart at its side. She stood outside of the office door, one hand on her hip and the other clutching a still smoking potion flask as she fixed me with a stern glare. She was a petite woman, her sandy blond hair pulled back tightly against her head and secured with a medical hat that made her look all the more serious.

"Oh...I was just...checking on him," I stammered, as I scurried down the hall towards where she stood in front of the exit. I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I caught her gaze with a weak smile.

"Yes I saw that. Now that you've seen for yourself that he's being properly cared for I think you should head back to your dormitory," she replied, stepping aside and motioning for me to continue on my way.

I nodded quickly and bustled past, raising my gaze to peer into her office. Ted was still seated at the desk, staring down at the scribbles on the parchment in front of him. His head was propped up on his hand, shielding him from me as I passed. He didn't offer me a wave or even lift his eyes off his work as he heard me, but I did manage to catch the hurt on his face before I passed.

I let the door close behind me with a pang of guilt in my chest as I stepped out into the empty corridor.

"Merlin, Ted, how did I manage to miss this?"


	9. This is War

**Crossfire: Chapter Nine**

_Thomas Nott_

I woke up to the sound of her laugh chiming somewhere down a dark tunnel. It was far away and close at the same time and I felt like my brain was pounding against my head so hard it was going to split right down the middle. I squeezed my eyes closed against it and when I opened them I recognized the old, light stone of the Hospital Wing corridor as it swam lazily into my view.

At first I thought she was part of my dream. She was running through the dungeons in front of me, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and she turned around with that blissful grin and laughed as I followed her. But then I heard another voice, a man's voice. He was laughing too. She skidded to a stop in front of me and her body exploded with green light and she was falling. My head exploded in pain and I couldn't move to catch her.

Up until then I had been floating in and out of my own thoughts thanks to the delightful potion that Pomfrey had given to me opon my arrival. I remembered flying behind Lucius as he swooped down toward the sandy bottom of the pitch, chasing the fluttering flash of gold in front of him. I heard the crack as a wooden bat hit the bludger right behind me and then I was falling, the ground spinning as I came in for a rough landing.

Then I was on the gurney in the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey waving a chalice in front of my face and filling me in on why I could feel the slick wetness and metallic scent of fresh blood coating the back of my head, telling me to drink. I did, and then I was gone again.

I blinked a few times, my vision swimming a bit less each time until finally everything came into focus and my senses came back to me. Andromeda was in fact in the room, speaking to what sounded like the Mudblood, Tonks. I vaguely remembered him looking over Pomfrey's shoulder as she mixed the potion on the cart beside me, explaining its ingredients and their amounts and uses. She certainly didn't mention that I would wake up feeling like my mouth had been stuffed full of bandages the entire time I had been asleep. I began to push myself up, eyeing the basin against the opposite wall as if it was a mile away.

_"Don't worry, Andi. Nott is our only company and Pomfrey knocked him out with that potion she gave him. He won't be spreading our secrets around any time soon."_

I froze, settling soundlessly back against the white hospital sheets as I strained to listen to their conversation echo off the walls. My breath hitched and I considered whether or not I wanted to stop fighting the effects of the potion, let it sweep me back into a blissful, ignorant sleep. If not, I would know for sure if Andromeda was really the one I was after, or if she could be spared as a simple messenger for another muddled pureblood. Even in that moment I was simply trying to fool myself. I already knew.

_"I don't want to be recognized for this. I just want to see a change and if that happens without me having to put my name to any of those parchments that will be fine, and I'll keep writing until I see it. I'm just happy that you all are willing to help."_

There it was. I willed myself to stay silent and still. I wanted to curse, punch the pillow, jump up and shake her until she admitted that she was lying even if she wasn't, just to save her own skin. Tell her to name someone else, anyone else. But I just let my chest rise and fall in a lazy, sleepy rhythm while I seethed inside. The drafty corridor whisked the scent of her over to me before the sound of her footsteps alerted me that she was approaching. I felt her fingertips on my skin, her lips on my cheek and then I was drifting away again.

"That was a nice bump you took, mate."

Lucius stood behind me, sizing up the tender, egg shaped bulge in the back of my head as I gathered up my Quidditch robes and discharge instructions from Madame Pomfrey. He had arrived not long ago with a change of robes from my trunk at the request of the mediwitch to make sure I made it back to the dungeons. She wanted to keep me one more day for observation but I talked her out of it. I couldn't spend any more time stuck in a hospital bed with my own thoughts.

"Bloody Prewett and his shite aim," I mumbled, directing him out the door, "It's a good thing you caught the snitch, because if I had taken that bludger and you lost the game I would have hexed you as soon as I laid eyes on you."

"As if you had any doubt," Lucius huffed as we turned down the fourth floor of the Hospital tower corridor and headed back to the dungeons, "I did enjoy the celebrations, sorry you had to miss it. Narcissa was quite impressed with my athletic prowess."

"Oh well, I'm glad to be of service to you," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Good to see those glamours held up the whole time you were there, I was a little worried they would wear off when you were unconscious."

I absently ran my hand over the inside of my left forearm where the skull and snake that made up the Dark Mark had been set into my skin. While in the castle I kept it constantly glamoured in case of such incidents as my little stay in the Hospital Wing. Lucius and Macnair had told me I was being paranoid, but I would have much rather have been paranoid than taking up permanent residence in Azkaban.

"I hope that situation has convinced you to start using them as well."

"Yes, Mother," Lucius replied, echoing the snide tone I had adopted when I said the same words to him only a few days earlier, "Oh, I thought I should let you know that everyone's favorite blood traitor snuck away to pay you a visit last night. How sweet."

"I know, I was in and out at the time, but I saw her," I replied, turning my head to him to catch his reaction, "It's her. She's the one writing all the parchments, just as Bellatrix said."

"She told you?," he breathed in disbelief as a smile crept onto his features, "How perfect!"

"No she didn't tell me. I overheard her talking to Ted Tonks. She's writing everything, there are others helping her distribute them, probably getting them sent out to the Prophet and contacts outside of the castle. I know at least one of the Prewetts and the McKinnons are involved, and the Mudblood of course, he's infatuated with her," I spat.

"You've got to send word to your father. Tell him to let the Dark Lord know, see what he wants you to do next," Lucius exclaimed as he rubbed his hands together in delight.

I dropped my gaze to my feet and made a noncommittal noise in response. The smile slid off Lucius' face as soon as he noticed I wasn't sharing in his happiness with the prospect. He eyed me suspiciously in silence for a few moments before he grabbed a hold of the side of my robes and tugged me to a stop.

"Alright, let's have it. What's with this melancholy nonsense?," he demanded eyes darting up and down the corridor to ensure our privacy, despite our hushed voices. Thankfully the tower wasn't a heavily populated one, especially since classes were in session at the time.

"I don't know," I muttered, tenderly passing a hand over the back of my head, "I'm not sure about all of this..."

"How hard did you get hit exactly?," Lucius replied incredulously, "This is what you wanted! He chose you to do this, you accepted. It was an honor and now it has to be done. There's no sense in thinking too hard on it, it's that simple."

"For you, maybe," I hissed.

"For Merlin's sake, you're acting like she's going to die by your wand."

"She might as well be! Do you think that Narcissa would be happy to see her sister handed over to be tortured and killed like some Muggle? What do you think she would say to you if she knew you had something to do with it?," I snapped, giving Lucius a shove into the wall behind him, breaking his grip on my robe. The impact shocked him and his cool eyes flashed with the rage I knew lurked just beneath his calm demeanor.

"I don't give a bugger what happens to that girl," Lucius snarled, waving off my questions with irritation as he stepped off the wall to stand toe to toe with me, "I doesn't matter to me if Narcissa wouldn't want her dead, do you know why? Because Bellatrix does and more importantly so does Voldemort. So if she doesn't end up at his feet do you know who is going to take her place? You are, my friend. So wise up."

"She's a pureblood, Lucius," I ventured.

"She may be. But she's also a traitor to that blood, so in my eyes she's chosen to throw her lot in with the Mudbloods so she can die like them. If you won't acknowledge her blood why should it protect her? It's of no consequence to me and it shouldn't be to you either," he replied, "Do you really think she would keep cozying up to you if she found out what you are and why you've been pursuing her? You can be sure she would have you hauled in front of the Wizengamot and off to Azkaban before you even knew what happened. You've read those letters, you know what she thinks of us."

"You're right."

I took a couple of steps back and turned, continuing on my way without checking to see if Lucius was following me. I hoped I sounded sincere enough not to warrant any further conversation on the matter. Lucius was right. We had talked about earning the mark, serving the Dark Lord and reaping the rewards our loyalty would provide, defending our bloodlines, and the like. But that was talk, and this was reality where there were actual consequences for our actions and it wouldn't be some nameless faceless Muggle that would suffer for mine.

"Listen," Lucius pressed, coming up on my side. His anger was almost gone, replaced only with a concerned tone that seemed almost out of place coming from him, "There's nothing we can really do about it now, we're right under Dumbledore's nose. Write your father, tell him what you know and see what he says. At least tell me you'll do that."

I nodded in reply and Lucius clapped his hand on my shoulder with an encouraging shake. There was no point in being sore with him. Everything he was saying was right and in my own best interest, even I had to admit that to myself. It didn't make the ropes in my stomach feel any better though.

"Good. I've got to get to Transfiguration," Lucius released my shoulder but didn't take any steps back, instead he pressed a finger to his lips thoughtfully before proceeding with his voice low, "Don't think for a moment I won't turn her over on your behalf if I didn't think you'll do it, my friend. I won't be burying your body when I could easily be burying hers. Know that."

"It won't come to that," I answered with a narrowed gaze. I felt my jaw tighten and my hands clench at my side at the prospect of it, something that certainly didn't escape Lucius' notice.

"I won't be gentle about it either," he pressed on, the corner of his lips turning up into a devious smile at the thought, "So for her sake, let's hope it doesn't."

"I said I've got this, Lucius." I snarled, "Go to class."

"Good man."

He turned away and left me there with a laugh. As I listened to his footsteps get fainter and fainter until I was left in the silence of the corridor my blood boiled. I was disgusted with myself for being unable to separate truth from illusion, for being so transparent. I was frustrated that Lucius had to threaten me to get me back on track, and a little scared that he meant what he said. I was weak.

My head swam, my stomach rolled, I was shaking. So weak.

I stumbled over to the side of an archway and let myself drop to the floor. I leaned my back up against the cold stone and took a deep breath as my head pounded against my eyes. I closed them, dizzy and nauseas. A sheen of cold sweat coated my skin beneath my robes.

"Hey...Nott, alright, there?"

I peeked an eye open. Tonks stood in front of me, untucked and sloppy as usual. His eyes held an expression of concern mixed with hesitance beneath all that shaggy hair, as though he had seriously considered leaving me there, perhaps giving me a kick to the side as he walked by. But his conscience had made him stop.

"Smashing, keep it moving," I replied with a snort as I dropped my hands to the floor and started to push myself back up, pausing in a crouched position as my equilibrium adjusted. Tonks stood there, watching me the whole while. He shuffled nervously, teeth paying across his lip.

"That bludger you took...your head probably isn't going to be right for a few days and you haven't eaten so you're going to be a bit-"

"I thought I said keep it moving," I interrupted, waving him down the hallway as I raised myself back onto my feet, keeping my back against the arch for support. His voice was making my anger surge up again, accompanied with another flash of pain in my skull. At this rate I would never make it back to the dungeons.

"Would you like me to take you back to Madame Pomfrey?," Tonks ventured.

"If I wanted to see Madame Pomfrey, don't you think I would have just stayed where I was?," I hissed as I shook my head, "You really are a dim lot, aren't you?"

"Hufflepuffs or Muggleborns?," Tonks replied with a smirk as I stepped off the archway, brushing the dust off my robes gingerly.

"Both."

Ted laughed the answer off. It sounded forced, as if he was willing to pretend that it was a teasing little jab from a friend in an effort to keep the conversation civilized. I could see his smile wasn't quite as bright as it had been before that response, but it stubbornly hung in there all the same. Irritating.

"Fair enough. I was hoping we could talk, if that's alright with you," he pressed, "I don't think you want me to follow you into the dungeons so you should probably just stay still for a moment, catch your balance and listen."

"You have nerve," I replied coldly, but folded my arms across my chest and nodded for him to proceed. A cruel smile found its way onto my lips and I adopted an expression of mock curiosity, "What could you possibly have to discuss with me? Want to borrow some Potions notes? Switch Prefect rounds? Warn me to stay away from a certain Black sister you fawn over every time you're close enough? What?"

I thought that would have been enough to make him back down and let me continue in peace back to my dormitory. Tonks wasn't one for confrontation I had noticed. The smile that clung to his lips slid off almost instantly. I had caught him off guard with my blunt assumption. But rather than stumble over himself and back down he narrowed his eyes and steadied himself.

"What do you see in her?," he asked quietly, "You've been in the same house for six years and you never thought to give her any mind until now. Why?"

"Oh I don't know," I replied offhandedly, "Maybe she just caught my eye. I don't see how it's any of your business."

"She isn't like you."

"Excuse me?," I laughed, raising my fingers to count off on them, "She's an aristocrat, she's a pureblood, she's a Slytherin. I would say she's much more like me than you choose to admit."

"She's not. She's accepting and caring, she's thoughtful and grounded, she's pleasant and peaceful, she's nothing like any of you," Tonks answered so forcefully I was almost impressed.

"Like me? Purebloods or Slytherins?," I mimicked him.

"Both."

"Do you really think that she would ever be interested in you, Tonks?," I murmured as I stepped closer to him with a laugh. I shook my head, pressing my fingers to my temples as though the thought was so farfetched I couldn't even grasp it, "You know...she might not be happy with how she's treated, but do you know what would happen to her if she actually carried on some kind of relationship with a Mudblood?"

Ted's eyes dropped to the floor as the weight of the question fell on him. Clearly he had considered the implications of it. Even so, I felt it necessary to clarify. For his sake, of course.

"They barely tolerate her now, she would be tossed out," I continued mercilessly, "No family, no home, no money, nothing. Everything she knows would be gone. That whole society, all her friends, they'll turn their backs on her and given the current political atmosphere and the prestige of her family she'll be lucky if she isn't killed for it. Consider that the next time you try to wrap your head around why I'm interested in Andromeda and set your sights elsewhere, just a polite suggestion. You just don't understand the implications."

I had stunned him into silence and I wasn't about to wait for him to find his tongue. I stalked off and left him where he stood. Hopefully that would be enough to ensure that he wouldn't feel the need to meddle in my business for a while I didn't have time to concern myself with the Mudblood any further, I had a letter of my own to write.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone that's been following the story and providing feedback! Very encouraging :) Thankfully my work schedule has stopped being so crazy and gone back to normal so that would put me back on that once a week updating deadline I set for myself, sorry for the scattered updates. I'm going to be working on the next few chapters furiously while I have a million plot bunnies hopping around my head :) Please R/R!


	10. Delicate

**Crossfire: Chapter Ten**

_Andromeda Black_

My mother's owl always was a harbinger of impending doom, usually my own. For six years I would see that fat bunch of feathers swooping over the Slytherin table and cringe. This morning's breakfast had been no different. Austine had let out an irritated cry as he released his precious cargo down into my hands and flew off with an air of annoyance. Clearly he had other plans for his day that did not involve delivering yet another message to me.

I didn't need to open it to know what the letter was about. I had already received three so far that term that had pretty much said the same thing each time. I had no desire to begin my day on a sour note, so I had tucked it into my pockets and out of my mind. As I sat at a table in the dim light of the Slytherin common room, pouring over my Potions notes, the corner of the envelope poked into my skin and I was once again reminded of it's presence.

I turned the envelope over in my hands. My mother's delicate, neat scrawl covered the back of it with unnecessary flourish. The family crest sealed it closed on the opposite side with black wax. My fingers traced the motto scrawled across the bottom scroll, one I knew all too well. Toujours Pur. Always, always, always pure.

_Andromeda,_

_I hope you are doing well. I stress hope due to the fact that you've failed to see any need to write to your mother, who has brought you into this world and has given you everything. Don't act as though you haven't received any of my prior letters either, young lady, as both your sister and your cousin have had no problems with Austine's delivery skills and have found time to reply as well._

_Regardless, I am writing to inform you once more that I have begun making invitations for the Christmas party this year and I need to know where I should be addressing the one for your escort and his family. I expect to see you stepping off that train on the arm of a distinguished young man, or Merlin help you, I will ask Rabastan to bring you again, and you remember how embarrassed you were last time. If you are having difficulty in finding a guest might I suggest you conduct yourself as a lady of your upbringing should and take a hard look at who you are spending your time with in that castle._

_Also, I thought you should know that your Uncle Alphard will be joining us this year so you will not be able to pull the stunt he allowed you to pull by spending Christmas on holiday with him. Please be prompt about your reply. I have a seating chart to arrange and these things take time._

_Give my love to Narcissa and Evan and for Merlin's sake, do your best to straighten out Sirius. Your Aunt Walburga is in such a state over his sorting._

_Regards,_

_Druella Black_

My father used to say there were only two certainties: death, and Mum's Christmas party. The later of which was the night where the elite pureblood families flocked to my parents' house in their finest and spent the evening congratulating themselves on being the pinnacles of Wizarding society. Consequently it was also Narcissa's favorite night of the year.

Her squeal of delight at my side informed me and everyone within earshot that she had been reading over my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Narcissa's outburst had even grabbed the attention of Isabella, which was impressive seeing as how she had spent nearly the entire evening draped across the lap of Walden Macnair. The two had been sharing an overstuffed plush chair by the fire nearly every night for the past week, and when they weren't in the common room he could usually be found trailing behind her like the big dumb puppy he was. She caught my gaze and much to my surprise, rather than her usual sneer, a victorious smile spread across her lips before she turned into Macnair to whisper in his ear.

"Oh, Andi, I'm so excited! Mum and I already placed my dress on hold at Twilfit and Tattings while we were shopping for school robes in the summer! You'll love it, it's the most beautiful shade of green. And I think I'm finally going to ask Lucius if he wants to be my escort this year. Do you think I should?"

"No."

I thoroughly despised Divination and held no stock in it, but if there was such a thing as a sixth sense, mine was buzzing. Something about Isabella and Walden wasn't right.

"What? Why not?," Narcissa snapped before swatting my arm indignantly to force my attention back to her. She was staring at me, wide eyed and open mouthed, clearly offended that I had shot the idea down without even batting an eye.

"Because he's an awful human being," I answered simply, without even looking up as I thumbed through my pile of parchment.

"I'll have you know that Mother loves him," she pointed out haughtily, "She says he reminds her of Father at his age; very well mannered and elegant."

"If Father was a pretentious, self serving, egotistical prat at his age too, then I would be inclined to agree with her for once," I replied with a genuine smile, "Just looking out for you, 'Cissy."

Narcissa scowled. She slammed the cover of her Transfiguration book closed before swiveling in her seat to face me.

"Well since you insist on being so judgmental of my potential escorts, let's hear yours," she huffed, hands on her hips, "Have you given any thought as to who you will be taking?"

"Yes, I thought I would bring Ted Tonks. He'd be a laugh," I replied with as much sincerity as I could muster, "I think Father would absolutely love him, don't you?"

Her reaction nearly made me fall off my seat in laughter. Her blue eyes went wider, and her hand flew to her chest as though I had jumped out of her closet and scared her half to death. What was even more humorous was the fact that she wouldn't put it past me to actually follow through with it. She knew how much I hated the Christmas party.

"You wouldn't dare," she whispered.

"Of course not. I wouldn't do that to Ted. But the more you and Mum harass me about this bloody thing the more I'm tempted, just to ruin it and spite you both," I answered, exasperated, "Now, I thought we were studying."

Narcissa grudgingly opened her textbook back up, although I could see that she was staring blankly at the page. The wheels in her mind still turning over the guest list and not inanimate to animate transfiguration.

"You can always go with Rabastan again...Mother has practically been forcing the two of you together at every turn since Bellatrix married Rodolphus," she ventured after only a few moments of silence, "You're next in line. You two don't look bad together, either."

"You're almost as bad as she is," I exclaimed, tapping the tip of my quill on her book, "I'm perfectly capable of finding my own escort if I so chose, thank you very much. I don't need any help in the matter, so kindly stop trying."

"Will you be asking Thomas Nott, then?," Narcissa ventured. She looked so smug with her knowing grin and teasing eyes. I felt my skin flush under her scrutinizing gaze and I looked away, shaking my head with a laugh.

"Asking me where?"

We both jumped at the sudden sound of the voice behind us. I whirled around in my seat just as Thomas dropped his bag on the table between Narcissa and I and leaned a hand on each of our chairs. His dark hair fell across his eyes and his brow raised in curiosity at the context of the discussion he had just walked in on. He looked between the two of us with his usual faux innocent smile.

"To our family's Christmas party," Narcissa piped up before I could avert the conversation elsewhere, casting me a sly gaze, "I believe you have attended in the past, if I'm not mistaken. Has he not, Andi?"

"I believe he has," I answered after clearing my throat and offering him a nervous smile.

"My sister and I were just discussing whether or not you might be interested in attending this year, actually," Narcissa pressed on, much to my chagrin. I had to fight to keep the smile clinging to my lips when all I wanted to do was covertly grab Narcissa's fingers and squeeze them until she stopped talking.

"Now that all depends," Thomas replied, shifting his gaze between the two of us, "Am I allowed to bring a guest with me?"

"Well...I suppose you are, yes," Narcissa stammered questioningly. I on the other hand, had begun sinking lower and lower in my seat in an effort to slip under the table and die of embarrassment.

"Who might your escort be, Andromeda?," he asked. As he spoke his fingers slipped across the back of my neck, collecting my hair and brushing it onto my shoulder. I shivered.

"No one as of yet," I answered truthfully.

"How lucky for me," he mused as he lowered his head so that it was only inches away from my ear, "I would be delighted if you would consider allowing me to accompany you to the party. Otherwise, I'm afraid I'll have to decline the invitation. Which would be a shame because I do love a good party."

"That sounds wonderful...I'll send word to my parents and have them arrange for you to stay with us," I answered quickly as I started collecting my belongings from the table. I knew my smile stretched from ear to ear from the look on Narcissa's face as she watched, satisfied with her contribution to the arrangement.

"Well before you do all that, at the risk of taking advantage of your good graces, I have another favor to ask you," Thomas interjected before he reached between the two of us to withdraw a large roll of parchment from his bag. I recognized the grid of intersecting lines almost instantly. It was a star chart, the same one I had helped Evan with only a few days prior, only Thomas' was noticeably emptier.

"What I originally wanted to ask you was whether or not you would be opposed to giving me a bit of help with all this. It's due tomorrow and Evan might have mentioned that you have a knack for Astronomy."

"Oh, that's no problem at all, it's a clear enough night. We'll have this done in no time," I exclaimed as I stood from my seat, parchments tucked under my arm, "I'll get my telescope and meet you there?"

"Oh don't bother, I'll bring mine," Thomas replied with a grin as he swept his bag off the table and nodded to my sister as he backed his way toward the dormitories, "Sorry for the intrusion Narcissa, you have a lovely evening."

"Oh think nothing of it, Thomas, I would never dream of coming between you and your Astronomy marks," Narcissa assured him as her eyes flicked between the two of us with a knowing gleam, "Enjoy your studies..."

* * *

When I was young my bedtime story would always be that of my namesake, the chained princess from Greek legend, rescued from the jaws of a sea monster by a handsome prince. My father would bring his telescope into my room and together we would locate that constellation he told me was right overhead the night I was born. Bellatrix was never interested in seeing her stars and Narcissa had always felt left out that she had no constellation to call her own. My mother had always hated the subject, so it was I that my father shared his passion for Astronomy with. By the time I started school I had been plotting the stars for years.

The Astronomy Tower provided an uninterrupted view of the skies from the highest point in the castle. It was a cloudless night, clear enough that I didn't even need a telescope to pick out the groups of stars that made up my favorite constellations. I tugged my robes tight around me against the the late fall chill that was creeping over the countryside as I ventured out onto the tower's rampart. I rested against the cold stone and raised my fingers to trace out that familiar form in the sky. One by one, she came to life in the emptiness.

"Fancy meeting you here."

For the second time that night, Thomas Nott had snuck up on me without a sound to announce his presence. I jumped, dropping my hands to grip the wall as I spun around to face him. He stood at the classroom's threshold in the large stone archway that lead out onto where the rampart jutted out from the turret, his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Thomas, really. You scared me half to death," I exclaimed as my hand flew to my heart. I leaned forward and let out a sigh in an effort to slow the pounding in my chest.

"This probably isn't the best place for you to lose track of your surrounds, Andi," he replied, his expression strangely grim as he watched me steady myself, "If I wanted to, I could have easily taken you by surprise right there."

"Why do you make it sound like such a bad thing?," I murmured, tilting my head in question and offering him a mischievous smirk.

"How do you know it isn't?," he retorted. He seemed taken aback by the coy response and mirrored my questioning expression with one of his own.

"I don't," I breathed, "Where is your telescope?"

Thomas chuckled darkly as he joined me in the cool night air, circling around where I stood. His movements were fluid, like a predator slinking around it's unknowing prey. My eyes followed him with an unwavering gaze, and I remained still as he drew closer.

"I must have forgotten it," he growled in his throat, his eyes locked on mine, "Silly me."

He came to a stop in front of me, one arm circling around my back, the opposite hand firmly wrapped around my thigh, holding me against him. Before I could resist he had effortlessly eased me off my feet and forced me to settle on the rampart wall, one hand on either side of where I came to sit as he hovered over me. There was nothing behind my back, just a long drop to the ground below and all he had to do to make that happen was push. My heartbeat picked up again, sensing the dangerous air of this little game.

"So, you were just trying to get me alone then?"

"I suppose I was."

"Well, here I am," I murmured against the skin of his neck. I felt the shiver run through his body and he tensed in response. His hands hesitantly slid off the stone to rest his palms on the exposed skin just above my knees. I risked a glance up at his face. His eyes were focused, gauging my reactions, searching my face for some hint of apprehension or unease and appearing downright incredulous that he saw none.

"You aren't afraid?," he asked plainly.

"No..."

I don't know who moved first, Thomas or I. In an instant his arms were around me, pulling me off the wall and into the warm heat of his body. That calculated restraint he had maintained the first time was gone now, replaced only with a longing, desirous fervor that I returned in kind. We sunk to the stone floor, his body absorbing my weight without a care. My hands were tangled in his hair and his lips were on mine.

And this time, there beneath the stars, his eyes were closed.


	11. Rumor Has It

**Crossfire: Chapter 11**

_Thomas Nott_

The rain pelted the ceiling of the Great Hall, seemingly in competition with the hundreds of boisterous conversations from the tables below as breakfast leisurely dragged on. Although thunder rumbled threateningly overhead, the glow of the candles provided a pleasant, warm glow to contrast the dim elements outside. The castle itself was trying to lull me into a sense of contentment with current events and as I watched the hypnotic trickles of rain sliding down the glass, I had to admit to myself it was working. Or at the very least it was adding to the dangerous sense of...something that had stubbornly settled in on me since the night before.

Something that had the inconvenient tendency to form a tightness in my chest every time my mind wandered back to the Astronomy Tower. Something that had kept me up all night, not with the overwhelming fear that should have come hand in hand with the sensation. Not a sense of accomplishment that, for all intensive purposes and in a very loose sense of duty, I was making progress in my mission. Something that I was hoping would go away if I shook the images of her closed eyes, the sensation of her lips on my skin, the scent of her perfume, from my head Something that I wasn't going to dignify with a title.

I had clutched onto her like she was going to slip between the bars of concrete and fall from me if I loosened my grip, and she pressed herself to me as though she knew the same. The cold stone dug into my back in sharp contrast with the soft pressure of her weight on my chest. My hands slid along her skin, growing more brazen with the sighs they elicited. My skin was on fire from her touch. She wasn't stopping me. I remembered wishing that she would, and then that something ripped that hesitation away just as soon as it surfaced. Then there was nothing but the rhythm of her heart and her breath in my ear.

I risked a glance down the table and found her in her usual spot, sandwiched between Evan and Narcissa's animated conversation. If you weren't looking for her, you could almost miss her. But then again, I suppose that was how she wanted it. Smooth hair, pressed robes, and straight back, she was nothing like she had been last night on the outside. But her head was in her hand, distant brown doe eyes staring unseeing at the same storm above with a serene smile hanging on her lips, nodding vacantly to the conversation that I knew she wasn't listening to, didn't give a care about.

Her gaze slid lazily down the table and locked with mine. I smiled, and then her whole expression changed. The grin slid right off her face as though it had been slapped right off and her brow furrowed before she shifted in her seat and turned away, uneasy.

"I knew there wasn't anything to worry about..."

A manicured nail ran teasingly along the side of my neck and Isabella's breathy whisper hit my ear before I had a chance to discover for myself the reason behind Andromeda's sudden shifting gaze.

I snatched her hand off my shoulder and pushed it back to her as though her touch was enough to sicken me and turned to glower down at her with all the annoyance I could muster. I figured that would be enough to quell whatever misguided sense of entitlement had driven her to initiate the contact in the first place but when I caught sight of her I paused, confused. Even after my dismissal she looked positively pleased with herself.

"I'm sorry?"

"You and the Black girl," Isabella elaborated with a smirk as she confidently leaned into me and rested an elbow on the table, shooting her eyes down the breakfast table to where Andromeda sat for emphasis, "I knew it couldn't be true. You are good though, you even had me fooled."

"You're mad, you know. Do us all a favor and get some help," I snapped as I stood from my spot. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Andromeda's sidelong gaze had become fixed on the interaction, her whole frame almost hidden behind Evan's massive build. Even Narcissa swiveled in her seat, narrowed eyes gauging the situation. It was the last thing I wanted for a number of reasons. "I understand of course, darling, and don't worry...I'm not upset. Walden says you have to be very convincing," Isabella purred from her seat, a guise of mock innocence on her features as she twisted a strand of hair around her finger and waited. Other than her words she made no effort to stop me but she might as well have tugged me down by the front of my robes.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to, Isabella," I replied coolly as I slowly lowered myself back into my seat, studying her face for a clue as to whether she was digging for information or already had all she needed. I was hoping it was the first.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Oh Thomas, really," she chided with a giggle as she leaned in close and lowered her voice, "You mustn't be sore with him. He's not the brightest, is he? It took a bit of effort but eventually he gave me the piece of the puzzle I needed. Really, you should thank him. I was starting to consider turning my efforts elsewhere if you had become so disillusioned that you were actually interested in that blood traitor. But now that I know the truth, well...it's only a matter of time, yeah? Then we'll be together again."

For once, I was stunned silent. Mcnair really didn't have the brains Merlin gave to a gindylow. But then again I suppose it wasn't my place to judge him. The Dark Lord clearly did not recruit him for his impressive wit, but rather his impeccable ability to follow orders. Especially when those orders involved the prolonged and cruel death of a lowborn witch or wizard.

"Isabella, for once I can say you've really outdone yourself," I answered with a snort, clapping a hand over my mouth as though to stop the outpour of laughter that threatened to burst forth at her comment, "Mcnair and I, faithful servants of the Dark Lord? Tell me, love, do you really believe every word of every bloke you've let between your legs? Because even for you, this is impressive."

Her hand, which had been reaching into the folds of my robes, shot back as if they had burned her. Her jaw dropped, stunned at the harshness of my words. I had spoke loudly enough to elicit snickers from those close enough to hear it and in turn, had drawn more attention to our conversation. On all sides of the table, sidelong glances were being shot, low mutters uttered amongst my fellow classmates. My father had always taught me that those with the most to hide should hide in broad daylight.

"Are we lurking in the shadows of Potions class, trying to blow cauldrons up in the Gryffindors' faces? Really? Are you really that gullible that you'd drop your skirt at the suggestion that _Walden Mcnair _was out offing mudbloods in between classes to defend your pureblood line when he can barely pass Charms?"

I shook my head and reached for my pumpkin juice, taking a long swig as laughter echoed down the table. Her face was bright red, flushed with embarrassment or anger, or both. She gathered her robes up in her hand and jumped off the bench. I almost felt bad for her as she stood, gaze darting back and forth at the amused faces judging her. They all knew enough about her past dealings to believe every word of it. Not one of them doubted for a moment that she would take any words uttered in passion as truth, especially when it came to the thought of her regaining some dignity after being tossed aside for a girl of lesser standing. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes before she shot off down the hallway and into the Great Hall.

The spectacle was interrupted by the sudden flutter of wings and exuberant cries of the owls above, ready to deliver the daily post. Crisis averted for the time being. I scanned the ceiling for my own ball of feathers before risking a glance back down the table. Andromeda's eyes had shifted back to the ceiling since Isabella's hasty departure, satisfied. Her hands were held out in front of her as she waited for her delivery to be dropped, confidence evident on her face as Narcissa whispered in her ear.

I didn't even notice the unfamiliar brown owl swooping down with the Daily Prophet secure in its talons until it had practically landed in my plate. I eyed the delivery wearily as others tore into theirs, the crinkling of newspaper sounding across the hall as everyone shuffled through it, looking for the latest Quidditch news. Theirs were not tied up with black ribbon, as mine was. I began flipping through the pages.

After a bit of searching, I found it. A piece of parchment tucked neatly into the folds of the paper, so small it could have almost been missed. The neat scrawl appeared on it as though it was being written just as I was reading it and then was sucked back onto the page beneath it just as quickly.

_Your information has proven to be both insightful and helpful. Give our thanks to Lucius for assisting you in the correspondence. Help will be given in Hogsmeade. Watch for it._

I glanced over the top of my paper, surveying the inhabitants of the table, searching for my good friend before taking another calculated bite of my breakfast.

Lucius. No wonder he decided against making an appearance this morning.

He knew I had sent little, if any information back to anyone regarding my assignment since school began, despite my assurances otherwise. He did just as he said he would. He would not see me in a grave when it could easily be a blood traitor, useless to the cause, instead. I shouldn't have been angry with him. He was helping me do the right thing. I shouldn't have felt betrayed but I did. I was seething. I needed to know whom he addressed on the matter, what incriminating evidence he had sent to be reviewed by a jury that had already rested on a verdict and a sentence for Andromeda Black before I could even think to plead her case. He saw the clock when I came back last night. He smelled her scent, heavy on my clothes. He was waiting for this.

I folded up the paper, unceremoniously tossing it onto the table in front of me, rubbing my eyes wearily as I tried my hardest to subdue the rage boiling in my chest. I was going to have to find him and when I did, I didn't want to fly off the handle. That would only prove his suspicions right and lead to more correspondence on my behalf.

"It's a shame that the Prophet would even run such filth, eh?"

I turned my head to see Augustus Rookwood's thin frame slump into the seat beside me. He pushed his large frame glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and dropped his own paper on the table between us, the corner of his lip pulled up in a sneer as he gestured to a full-page advertisement. The faces of eight men I knew quite well stared back at us, dressed in their finest robes. Typical political poses, reassuring smiles. I had seen them all out of the political sphere, I knew better than to trust their slogans and their speeches. Each one had blood on their hands and each one was working for a cause quite different than they led on in their campaigns.

**Malfoy**

**Black**

**Lestrange**

**Rookwood**

**Greengrass**

**Wilkes**

**Mulciber**

**Rosier**

_These men hold public office, sworn to uphold the safety and sanctity of the Wizarding World. We voted them in to their posts to protect our interests and make decisions with proficiency and honesty. They make a mockery of all of us every day they are allowed to keep their positions. Each one of them participates in, or has given aid to the unspeakable crimes committed by this self-titled Dark Lord and his followers, and they are not alone in their crimes. Write to the Minister! Tell him you want the violence to stop and demand an inquiry made into the ties these families have to it. Speak up before you are silenced! Stop the Violence! Take back Wizarding England!_

"This is slander," Rookwood added, angrily, "Hopefully the public won't believe this garbage. It's an election year and Father can't afford press like this, even if it is from a bunch of deceitful mudbloods with no real grounds for such a claim. Even if they were all involved with the movement, and of course I'm not saying they are, how would anyone know?"

Because she saw them. Because the Dark Lord has held meetings in her home with his counsel. Because her father and her sister have pledged their lives to him. Because she has seen their faces.

"It's probably a political move," I muttered, eyes locked on the page. All along the table the cries of outrage were pouring out of my housemates as word of the accusations rolled down the table like a wave.

"Lucky your family's name wasn't thrown on here, eh?," Augustus offered before collecting his paper and clapping me on the shoulder. He stood from the bench to make his way back to his seat beside Evan, who was more than eager to share his outrage.

"Luck," I repeated to myself, "No I don't think it was that."

Andromeda hadn't lifted a finger to touch the paper. She wasn't looking back at me. Through all the commotion, her eyes were locked with another pair of brown ones across the Hall, peering back at her from beneath shaggy blond hair.


	12. I'm Not Calling You a Liar

**Crossfire: Chapter Twelve**

_Andromeda Black_

"So, how did noble old Slytherin house take to having their dirty laundry aired out all over Wizarding England?"

Across the table from me, Ted was draped lazily in his seat, casually flipping through his Potions textbook. He had pushed the chair onto its back two legs, his feet propped up on the table in front of him. As was customary for him, his yellow and black tie hung loosely at his chest, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He leaned back in a stretch before cushioning the back of his head with his hands and flashing me a look of faux innocence.

"Not well, I assure you," I answered with a smirk, "And who can blame them? It was such an outrage, after all."

"Scandalous," he breathed, shaking his head in mock dismay, "Who would do such a thing to such upstanding folk?"

The setting sun was shining through the library's dusty stain glass windows, spilling reds, blues, and greens across the deep mahogany of the table between us. Although we had settled ourselves in a vacant spot; a dimly lit table nestled between two towering rows of books in the History of Magic section, I still shot him a look over the top of my own textbook.

Ted waved it off promptly.

"You worry too much, Andi. Nobody has walked by the entire time we've been here, I think it's safe. Besides it's still way too bright outside for most Slytherins to creep out of the dungeon. I hear they only come out at night."

"That's my house I'll have you know," I shot back, resting my foot against the leg of his chair, threatening to give it a push that would send him toppling back into the shelves behind him, "Besides, we're out in the day, you just don't see us. We're too busy stalking our prey from the shadows."

"You're no snake," he replied, placing all four legs of his chair and his feet back to the floor, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. A mischievous smile spread across his face, "I bet the Sorting Hat had picked a different spot for you, you just begged it to put you in the dungeons so your Mum wouldn't have to be committed."

"You underestimate me."

"Never."

"I thought you wanted to study for Potions," I scolded him with a smirk, tapping the cover of his text with my finger for emphasis.

"Maybe I just wanted to get you alone," he countered, wiggling his eyebrows as he settled back into his chair, reluctantly flipping through the tattered pages, "We used to at least have patrol nights together."

"Is undercutting the pureblood movement together not exciting enough for you?," I teased softly, "I would think you'd enjoy meeting up for that over catching snogging couples in the Astronomy Tower."

"It has nothing to do with excitement, really," he ventured as he averted his eyes back to his book, "Patrol duty wasn't exciting, that's why I liked it. It was fun just to talk with you, you know? Just spend time..."

"Ah.."

I quickly followed his lead and nervously averted my eyes back to my own textbook. I felt a pull in my heart, the same twinge of guilt I had when I walked past him in the Hospital Wing. I had hoped that I was reading too much into things that night. But now he was trying to tell me something that I didn't want to hear and he didn't want to say. So we both sat in silence, staring blankly at the words printed on our pages and not really reading them, fidgeting, and thinking.

I liked Ted, I did. He was very warm and sweet and humble. I gravitated to him because I craved those traits in a person. The Black family didn't do warm well, as anyone who had spent time in the same room as my older sister could have attested. Likewise, Slytherin House wasn't well known for the caring disposition boasted by the students wearing its green and white. Spending time with him was like a vacation from all the expectations that had to be met and formalities that needed to be observed at home and in the castle. He was one of the only people that I could truly just be myself with, without having to worry about anything. It was so nice to just breathe, and relax, and be.

Maybe it was selfish, but I really did not want to have a conversation about how Ted felt about me because I didn't want him to shut me out or change the way he acted when we were together. I didn't want to lose the way he could lull me into just being free. I feared if I didn't get a chance to do that any more I wouldn't know the difference between who I really was and who I was supposed to be. Maybe he was worried about that too.

"There is something wrong about Nott, Andi."

Against my better judgement, my eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. His cheerful grin was gone, his face was blank, unreadable. I didn't like it. I could always read him and he was always happy. Things were already changing.

"Don't do this Ted," I whispered firmly, holding up a hand as if to stop any more words on the matter.

"I have to. If for no other reason, I'm your friend. I know you're not going to listen to me but I still have to say it, if only to make myself feel better. I don't trust him, I don't trust whatever it is he is trying to do and believe me, he's trying to do something."

"You don't know him," I shot back evenly.

"We've met."

"Well then I don't know why you're saying such things," I snapped.

"Yes you do, Andi! He is everything you always complain to me about," Ted exclaimed, "He's everything your mother wants for you and everything you told me you hated. Everything that you told me hates you for that matter, so did you ever stop to think about why he's going after you now? At the worst he's dangerous and at the very least he's just looking for another notch for himself."

I pressed my lips together tightly and drew in a quick breath as the sting of his words hit me like a slap in the face. I had to leave. My hands started fumbling through my bag, making room for all the parchment scrolls full of forgotten Potions notes that had been scattered across the table. The burn of tears threatened to well up in my eyes.

"It's getting late, and I've got quite a bit of homework I still have to get to so I'll just be-"

Ted's hand flew forward and grabbed a hold of my wrist. Not aggressively or tightly but the contact made me stop nonetheless. His brown eyes were locked on mine, pleading.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Please don't be mad. That's the last thing I want to do. It was just something I had to say. If I'm wrong then you can throw it in my face and if I'm right, well then I'll be there for you if you want me to, okay?"

I nodded and he let me go, his hands running over his face nervously as he looked away.

"Thanks...Well, I'm just gonna..."

I threw my bag over my shoulder and pushed my chair back, cringing at the scraping noise that echoed down the empty rows as I turned on my heel and rushed for the door. The towering rows of books flew past me as I tucked my head down and careened onto the third floor landing. I rushed down the stairs as fast as I could go and I didn't slow down or make an effort to stop until I was facing that dismal stone wall in the dungeons that hid the common room from sight.

The only sounds in that dimly lit corridor were the slow methodical drip of the condensation that always gathered on the cold stone floor in puddles, my racing breath and and my pounding heart.

Ted had every right to say what he did. There was no way I could have faulted him for it, no matter how much I wanted to.

For six years all I had done was complain about the pomp and entitlement and bigotry that swelled and fed behind that stone wall. I had promised myself that I would not be stuck in that world any longer than I had to. As soon as I graduated, I would be free from the whole lifestyle. No more unnecessary lavish parties, no more outdated etiquette, or conversations about lineage and purity. I would find someone who would give me a chance to make a name for myself rather than have my name make me.

Thomas Nott did not fit that plan. His blood was as pure as my own, his family as capable as mine, and he was as full of arrogance and privilege as any of them could be. Carrying on anything with him would only submerge me deeper in a life I thought I was trying to escape.

Which made me wonder if I was really trying to escape it at all, if all my resentment and desire to run from it had more to do with constantly feeling outcasted in my own society. Maybe deep down I had to admit that a small part of me wanted desperately to be accepted again. Maybe I didn't even know myself.

I'm not sure how long I stood in front of that wall, tears silently streaking down my face as I wrestled with my own thoughts. It wasn't until a hand fell lightly on my shoulder and spun me around that I even realized I wasn't alone in that corridor.

"Andi?"

I blinked the water out of my eyes and found myself face to face with none other than the source of my confusion. Perfect. I let out a laugh as I looked away and dabbed the moisture from my cheeks with the sleeve of my robes.

"Fancy Meeting you here," I managed, once I was sure my voice was steady.

Thomas' forehead wrinkled in confusion but he reached out and cupped my cheek to turn my eyes back to him. He had just come from the pitch, still in his practice robes which were splattered with mud from the recent storm. His normally well kept brown hair was sticking out in all directions and he smelled earthy, like sweat and grass and evening air.

"What happened?," he pressed, as he stepped forward and slid his hand down my shoulder to rest on my arm. The sensation of it sent tingles through my skin and made my heart leap instantly.

"Nothing," I breathed, embarrassed at the reaction his closeness elicited, "Nothing at all."

"Tell me."

His normally playful blue eyes were stern and focused, studying me. Something told me I wouldn't have gotten away with lying to him even if I wanted to. So instead I drew in a breath and returned his serious gaze.

"I need to know what is going on here."

"I'm sorry?," Thomas ventured with a raised a brow, a hint of a smirk threatening to creep up the corners of his lips.

I flushed instantly. All the mixed feelings, the doubt, everything came bubbling up in me. Before I could gauge my response the words came tumbling out.

"This. You and me. What is going on? I've known you for years and you've hardly given me the time of day and now...why the sudden change of heart? Your friends despise me. You're probably getting nothing but flack from our entire house for even being seen in public with me. Why doesn't that matter to you anymore?"

Thomas dropped his hand from my arm and took a step back, as if he was momentarily stunned by for forthcoming. He looked away for a moment, his hand running roughly through his already tousled brown hair. He was only silent for a few moments but it felt like an eternity. I shifted my weight nervously as I watched him carefully consider his words, as he always did.

"I'm not going to lie to you. You're probably always going to be Bellatrix's blood traitor sister to almost everyone in that common room. But what they probably don't want to admit is that you are stronger and more brave than anyone in there could ever hope to be and that's what scares them. It's easy to go along with the crowd, or condemn something when you're not surrounded by it constantly," he paused, lowering his eyes back to his muddy boots before continuing quietly, "This is real, there is no pretending here. I'm going to be leaving this castle at the end of term and I don't want to do it without experiencing something genuine for once, and I honestly only feel that when I'm with you. I'm not going to just give that up because someone might have a problem with you're values. I'm not going to give that up without a fight."

It was my turn to be stunned silent that night. I stood there, mouth hanging open in surprise as I searched his face for any give away that he might be lying, placating me. I didn't find any. He met my gaze without a waiver. The Thomas Nott in front of me was as serious as I had ever seen him and his words rang with such forceful honesty the thought of doubting him for a minute was lost on me.

"You really mean that."

"Don't be so shocked," Thomas laughed, pulling me against his chest and letting his arms circle my hips. His forehead lowered to rest against mine and his eyes held mine, "I just wish I realized it sooner."

I didn't care that he could feel my heart racing against his own chest. I didn't try to hide the goofy grin that had spread across my face. I just closed my eyes, pressed my lips to his, and lost myself in that all too familiar feeling.

It was so right, it just had to be.


	13. Right Behind You

**Crossfire: Chapter Thirteen**

_Thomas Nott_

I could hear the excited thumps and yells echoing from the common room as Slytherin House prepared for the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. It had started early that morning and had only grown louder and more animated as more students gathered and the time to start making our way out of the castle drew closer. In contrast, the seventh year boys' dormitory was deserted and tensely silent, as it had been the past few days.

Lucius had made it his mission to be inexplicably absent any time he was sure I would be there, slipping in quietly once everyone had turned in and gone before anyone even stirred. Mcnair had kept his distance since Isabella had caused her little scene over breakfast, likely convinced I would hex his mouth permanently shut should he try to open it in my presence. Evan remained relatively cordial, but not especially talkative when I was about. My unknowing compatriots that occupied the dorm with the four of us likely attributed the undertones of hostility to word of my involvement with Andromeda spreading like wildfire through the house and made their feelings known on the matter by keeping their distance from me as well.

I hadn't seen any of them since they had left for breakfast that morning. I had declined Evan's invitation to eat with the Black clan and stayed behind. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry, nor was I looking forward to the trip as they were. While they were using the trip as a reprieve from the castle, I would be on the look out for help from the Dark Lord. I wasn't sure what that meant or who he was referring to but it was certain I would find out shortly and I had better be ready for it.

As I stood in front of the ornate full length mirror fixing the buttons of my cloak I could feel my fingers trembling against them at the thought. I closed my eyes and took a breath. There could be no room for fear or nervousness today. I had found myself in a very precarious situation, one that held dire consequences should I take one misstep. There was so much to balance, one slip would send it all tumbling down on my head. I couldn't have that. Not when there was so much at stake, for myself and for Andromeda as well.

When I opened my eyes I was surprised to come face to face with a second reflection in the mirror. Lucius Malfoy hovered in the doorway behind me in his fine black cloak, straight backed and silent. His cool grey eyes were calculating, studying me. His face showed no remorse, but I never imagined it would.

"What an elusive little snake you've been lately, my friend."

"I was thinking about escorting Narcissa and that blood traitor she calls her sister to Hogsmeade. I thought perhaps since you've gotten so close with the latter lately that you would care to join us," He proposed with a smirk as he closed the distance between us with a few steps but still lingered cautiously by the door.

"Did you now?," I exclaimed as I turned around to face him, "Ever the gentleman."

"I also thought that my presence might help provide you with the opportunity to slip away unnoticed when the time comes," He pressed, his thin lips pulling into a cruel smile, "If I'm not mistaken, you should be expecting a visitor."

"You've been so helpful lately, Lucius. Going for sainthood, are we?"

"I only did what I warned you I would if you kept carrying on with that girl the way you are. That should have been no surprise to you. What is a surprise however, is your total disregard for your duties," Lucius replied evenly. His cool demeanor did nothing but further fuel my annoyance with him, something I'm sure he knew. Lucius was the master of getting under your skin and in your head without even changing his tone or expression.

"I told you everything was under control," I hissed, jabbing a finger at him for emphasis, "You just couldn't keep your nose out of it long enough to see that. These things take time."

"Oh yes, Thomas. It certainly looked like you had everything under control last night," Lucius shot back, "If I'm not mistaken your charge was to find out if she was writing those pamphlets and deliver her to the Dark Lord if it turned out to be true. I'm fairly sure carrying on with her in the hallways every chance you get was not part of your assignment."

"Checking up on me now, mate?," I accused, crossing the stone floor to stand toe to toe with him. He made no effort to back down, just lifted his head to stare down his nose at my advance in his own arrogant way.

"I was coming back from the pitch, the same as you were," He countered, "If I were you I would think about practicing a little more discretion with your disgusting little displays of affection."

"That is exactly why you weren't chosen for this, Lucius. You wouldn't be able to sacrifice your own reputation because you're too damn arrogant to be successful in something like this," I snapped back just as quickly, "I'm only doing what I was asked to do, which was earn her trust. You remember that, yes? I can't just toss her in a bag and throw her over my shoulder as you would have me do. Subtlety, Malfoy, subtlety. She has to trust me when the time comes. How many times do I have to go over this with you?"

"Then tell me why you didn't send word that she was behind this," he demanded, "Why are you not involved in any discussion about how to stop these letters from happening? Why have you not done a damn thing that you've agreed to do since you've stepped foot in this castle? You were protecting her, just admit it!"

I turned away from him to face the mirror again, adjusting my collar and fidgeting with my cuffs. I couldn't look him in the eye anymore. My words sounded hollow to my own ears and I had no answers for his questions that wouldn't serve to incriminate me further. In the reflection I watched Lucius arch his brow, amusement spreading across his face before bursting out in laughter. His hands raised in front of his face and he began a slow clap.

"Bravo, Thomas, very good indeed. Do you even know where your facade ends and your reality begins anymore? The lies just keep coming from you, but I am not the one that you should be lying to. I'm your friend, we are in this together. We took an oath. Does that mean nothing to you now?}

"Of course it means something. I'm just having a little...difficulty with this," I finally replied, whipping back around to face him with hands held out at my sides in surrender, "That's all."

Lucius must have appreciated the honest answer. He stepped forward and clapped a hand on my shoulder firmly. His deadpan eyes bore right into mine gravely, as if he was trying to convey how dire the circumstances of today would be with them alone. No words were necessary for that. It was a feeling that hummed between us that we both understood. The same feeling that accompanied the sharp sudden burn of our forearms and the notion that nothing would ever be the same. We could argue later.

"The girls are waiting," he muttered, "Let's go."

* * *

The streets of Hogsmeade were as unassuming as ever. No snow had fallen to gather on their thatched roofs yet, although the cold chill that stubbornly clung to the air certainly threatened that it could at any moment. It was a refreshing cold, the kind that buzzed with its own energy to match that of the students that had flooded the streets and shops of the little village.

I never understood what the draw was to Hogsmeade, other than it being the only all wizarding village in Britain. Everyone would always go on about how quaint and charming the little town was. It was just an escape from the castle, a place that they let us loose upon on some weekends. Where professors went to drink some firewhiskey, mingle with society outside of academia, and get away from us for a while.

Unfortunately for them, on Hogsmeade weekends there was no getting away from us. Even those like myself that failed to fall under the spell of the little village still made the trip there anyway, just for the change of scenery. The High Street belonged to us. The locals tended to avoid the haunts of the Hogwarts students on that stretch such as Zonkos and the Three Broomsticks when we came to town. I couldn't really blame them.

We had all left the castle in a throng, some rushing along the pathway to the village at a running pace and others leisurely wandering down to join them, in no hurry to waste the day. Our envoy had chosen the latter method. Lucius and I kept a deliberate unhurried pace, Andromeda and Narcissa between us.

While the trip had began with some energetic and animated conversations, the closer we got to Hogsmeade the more sober and alert Lucius and myself had become. We were on guard, tense. It was maddening being on the look out, but having no idea what I was supposed to be looking for. It had us both on edge despite our best efforts to appear to be enjoying a carefree weekend out of the confines of the castle.

Narcissa remained as quiet as she always was while in the presence of Lucius, all smiles and nods. Andromeda had tried on a number of occasions to liven up the mood during that time but as we approached High Street even she had adopted the heavy silence that had fallen over us all.

"Bit chilly, eh?," she finally ventured as she huddled up closer against me. Even through all the layers I could feel the curve of her thin frame against mine and I slipped an arm around her back to pull her closer.

I had avoided her gaze since leaving the castle but I turned my head to her then. She had donned a cream, full length coat with a matching cap pulled down over her ears. Her dark hair spilled out from beneath it onto her shoulders in stark comparison. Her normally pale cheeks were bright red from the cold. Her expression was bright, even a bit mischievous as she settled against my side, brown eyes sparkling. She looked like she was made for this weather. She looked beautiful.

Beautiful enough to distract me. Out of the corner of my vision I saw the swirl of black robes before I felt the impact. A man about my size had collided with my opposite shoulder with enough force to jolt Andromeda into her sister. His robes were elegant, far too elegant for a day trip to Hogsmeade. The hood of his cloak was pulled over his head so that even in the daylight, his features were cast in its shadow. He reeled back a step before wrapping his hand tightly around my forearm, directly over my mark as if to steady himself. He made no apology, spoke no words as we continued past.

As Lucius ushered the girls forward I whipped my head back to him. He stood there in the road, watching us go before motioning with his head into the dense thicket of trees off to the side of the path and disappeared into them. He was my sign, my help.

"Shall we find ourselves a table at the Three Broomsticks, ladies? The good ones tend to fill up quickly," Lucius suggested as I turned back around, straightening up and swallowing hard.

He had seen. Although he had proposed the question to our escorts his eyes were on mine. His lips were set in a thin line and his gaze darted between myself and the woods behind us for a moment before settling on Narcissa and Andromeda innocently.

"You all go ahead, I've got to stop in Potage's and pick up some cauldron cleaner. Thing is so covered in muck nothing will boil properly anymore. No sense in holding you up. Order me a butterbeer and I'll find you when I'm finished," I urged, finding Andromeda's hand and giving it a small squeeze.

Luckily the gesture surprised her enough to quell any protest she had about being left alone with Lucius and her sister. She grudgingly followed along at Narcissa's side, pointedly ignoring Lucius' offer of his free arm to her as he led them both away from me. I watched them disappear in the bustle of the street before I slipped off the cobblestone pathway and into the woods.

The further I pressed into the dense brush the fainter the commotion from the village became. Soon the laughter and shouting was replaced by the unnervingly loud crunching of the fallen leaves beneath my feet and the calls of the birds in the twisted branches above me.

I had walked a good distance before I found that my messenger was waiting for me, his stocky form leaning lazily against the trunk of a gnarled oak tree. His hood had fallen back to reveal the mop of dark curls it had been hiding. His familiar face was covered in a neatly trimmed beard and a sly smile slid onto his lips as he watched me approach, extending his hand in welcome.

"Rodolphus Lestrange, I must say I have never been more relieved to see you," I breathed as I swatted a low lying branch from my path and reached out to shake his hand, my free arm pulling him into a solid embrace, "I take it you are the help I'm supposed to be receiving."

"Don't look so relieved. Help is a relative term," He replied with a gruff laugh, "Especially when you consider who it is coming from. But for all intensive purposes, yes. I was sent here to provide you with some assistance."

"Well, let's have it, then," I prodded eagerly.

Rodolphus passed a hand over his chin thoughtfully as he straightened his posture. The smile he had greeted me with slipped away, replaced by a stern gaze and a tightly clenched jaw.

"You're in over your head, my friend."

"What do you mean?," I demanded, "I've retrieved valuable information. I've shown more than enough progress and I think I've proven myself more than capable of-"

"He knows, Thomas," Rodolphus interrupted, throwing his hands up in the air between us to halt my well rehearsed explanations, "So please, save me your bluffing. I didn't come all this way to be lied to. He's in your head. He's in all of our heads and he can pick things out if you don't keep your guard up. I don't know how, but he does it. He senses your hesitation."

I felt an icy tightness grip my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. I could do nothing but stare blankly back for a moment as the gravity of his words registered in my mind.

"He wants me to let you know that he doesn't want to kill the girl," Rodolphus continued, eyes scanning the empty forest vigilantly, "That goes against what he is trying to accomplish. Andromeda's blood is some of the purest around these days and spilling it will serve to be little more than a waste. The pureblood movement doesn't need to tangle up the limbs of its family tree any more than it already has."

"So she's safe then?," I ventured, cautiously.

Rodolphus shook his head.

"I didn't say that. I said she is of more use to the Dark Lord alive than she is dead but that's only if she stops the nonsense she's been carrying on with and falls in line. Blood traitor is only second to mudblood and there is no room for either in the future we are building and she needs to see that. If she runs off with a muggle born what good is she to the movement then, you know? But lucky for her she took your bait, so he wants you to know that he is going to give her a chance to stop all of this."

My reply was interrupted by a deep, ominous rumble in the sky above. The heavy white clouds were quickly adopting a dense, smokey darkness that blocked out the few lazy rays of sunlight that had made it to us. From out of the hazy billows the skull emerged with a clap of thunder so loud it shook me to my core as the snake lazily crawled from the open mouth.

Then the screaming started.

"Ah...our brothers and sisters are not a very patient lot, now are they?," Rodolphus mused, as he stepped forward to put a hand on my shoulder, peering through the trees at the faint cracks of green and red light exploding in the distance.

"What's all this, Rodolphus," I demanded as my hand flew to the folds of my robes to grip my wand.

"The Dark Lord is willing to consider sparing Andromeda for her treasons, but that doesn't mean he's feeling particularly forgiving about all those that helped spread her little publications," he replied with a smile, "So he sent Bellatrix with some new recruits to make his feelings on the matter known. I suggest you stay clear of the Three Broomsticks and find your way indoors elsewhere."

He stepped back from me, pulling his hood over his head and with a wave of his wand that familiar faceless mask clung brazenly to his face. With a crack he was gone from my side.

I ran, pushing through the brush as fast as my legs would take me. My heart was racing, my pulse pounding in my ears, drowning out the explosions of curses hurled back and forth and the terrified cries that grew louder the closer I came to High Street. The tree limbs and branches caught my cloak, scratched my face as if trying to slow me down, but I didn't give notice.

I finally burst out of the tree line onto the main road with my wand drawn and skidded to an abrupt stop. The aftermath of the Dark Lord's message delivery was laid out before me. Store fronts were still smoldering black from the impact of curses that had missed their mark. A few of the townspeople lay, sprawled where they had fallen when they had taken up their wands to defend themselves. Others peeked out of the cracks of doors or windows to see if it was safe to come out of their sanctuaries.

I continued passed all of it to where the crowd of silent, wide eyed students had gathered outside of the Three Broomsticks. Some were openly sobbing, clutching each other. Some had faces and clothing that were covered in soot. They were all watching the flames as they exploded out of the shattered windows, licked up the wooden beams of the tavern as the fire within roared with the heat and vengeance of hell.

"Thomas! Thomas!"

I pushed through the masses toward the sound of my voice being called over the crackling inferno until I found them. Lucius Malfoy stood toward the back of the crowd, eyeing me warily. Narcissa, on the other hand, had her eyes glued on the fire. Her hands were clenched over her mouth, tears streaming from her blue eyes as she leaned against Lucius as though she would fall to her knees sobbing if he wasn't keeping her upright.

"What happened in there? Where is Andromeda?," I demanded, grabbing Lucius by the shoulder roughly.

The question only made Narcissa cry harder in response and she turned her face from me, burying her head in Lucius' chest. His arms wrapped around her and he turned his head to me, stone faced.

"They came into the tavern...split us all up. They bound the muggleborns to the chairs and set fire to the whole place. Everyone else had time to get out the door before everything went up in flames," he replied quietly.

"So then where is Andromeda, Lucius?"

"She went back inside."


End file.
